What was it I was going to say?
Slipped away probably because
it needn’t be said. At that edge
almost not knowing but second
guessing the gain, loss, or effect
of an otherwise hesitant remark.
Slant of light on a brass box. The way
a passing thought knots the heart.
There’s nothing, nothing to say.
Thomas Meyer
YOU ARE READING
About Her...
RandomWhen people say I talk too much. I transfer my thoughts onto pages. Well in this case, an orange app.
