Carousel horses stomp the ground of a Saturday memory; spin until the ground bleeds with my shattered self.
A love flies past.
Slips through my fingertips.
Jenny W. Andrews copyright 2022
Carousel horses stomp the ground of a Saturday memory; spin until the ground bleeds with my shattered self.
A love flies past.
Slips through my fingertips.
Jenny W. Andrews copyright 2022