#237 (between)

the day had worn her down

the night hadn’t bestowed

her dark gift yet

in twilight every shadow

stretched a mile

and the echoes

of still busy streets

grew teeth

the sound of her feet

on wet pavement

and constant drizzle

some drops caught

in her brows

mixed with weary tears

enough to carry her home

no demons left to slay

but her own

 

© Matthias Geh, 23rd  March 2018

 

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