I notice when he’s gone
Even though clouds are glowing moonlight
But in the breeze my thoughts are blown
I haven’t even words to write
© Delia Ross. 2022 / @poeeternal
Next Friday I turn 44. Potentially. Still putting up the good fight even though I’ve shriveled away to 118 pounds.
All fleshy stuffs.
Just a whole lot of gravity and
I just picked up this little triangle bikini top from the thrift today – and also recently learned that this style first originated in the 40s.