i cry in hearts
they fall into
my open palms
slipping gently between
my cupped fingers
before falling into
the chipped basin
I keep just for them.
the hearts I cry
are mostly crimson
some are hibiscus
and merge
together
like watered down blood
against the delicate
floral pattern
they stain the ancient china
and my fingers
and no amount of scrubbing
removes this hue
revealing to all
the color of my pain
Poignant. I love this! đź’ś
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLike