- Vol. 03
- Chapter 06
Image by Michael Salu
THE GIRL(Eighty words and eighty years)
The girl inside me speaks and says, I was young once, I, who has aged beyond recognition. whose skin had dried and creased, whose blood runs slow and thick, who spies a likely end when none already existed.
And this girl talks of night’s breeze against the skin, of a bared lover's touch, days without end, so in my eyes’ glare I hold fast her reflection, not quite dancing but speaking my name.