Sleeves Poem by Bella Luca
Sleeves
The room resembles freshly fallen snow
Or piano keys
Or the tips of new pair of converse
His whisper melts to wind
And sticks tot my skin
Shelves jut angrily from the walls,
Thrashing at the air before it
I try in vain to yank his voice from my limbs,
Pinching and pulling
Until it hangs around my arms like sleeves
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4/30/2024 4:02:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
