Uncategorized

Gham

It’s there. In the middle of conversations, at the end of a funny joke, as the laughter dies a natural death on plum lips. It lies. Strangled to my wiry hair, cobwebbed all over a single pillow. It is stuck to the foam at the end of a beer bottle, lying beside all the others, at the […]

via Gham — Inkward bound

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s