Hard Day

Nov. 3rd, 2006 09:42 pm
invocations: (Squall)


she asks, how are you?
blood grimed under fingernails
he says things went fine.

he keeps his head down,
stumbles past outstretched caress;
those hands can’t touch her.

the heat is stifling.
soak, lather, rinse, lather, rinse;
it is not enough.




(x-posted to [livejournal.com profile] fated_children)

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