The floor was too clean.
The last stanza unravels everything, doesn’t it?
Thank you for sharing this. More and more, nothing feels like enough. I understand less and less as we go.
Exactly that.
I paused when it came to write the last stanza.
Because once it was in, the poem stopped being about “them.”
It became mine.
Maybe ours.
The last stanza unravels everything, doesn’t it?
Thank you for sharing this. More and more, nothing feels like enough. I understand less and less as we go.
Exactly that.
I paused when it came to write the last stanza.
Because once it was in, the poem stopped being about “them.”
It became mine.
Maybe ours.