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.

No Botox/plastic/fillers

Just a whole lot of gravity and mess softness

Teardrops 😌

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.

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