THIS IS NOT POETRY

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Long Nights

There is always Grey under the eyes of young girls
You will note the spring in their steps
The pop and glitter of their lips
The mist that shimmers about their hair
But what you will not see
Is the Grey under their eyes
From long nights and fretting promises
It settles into lines
Tired
And lingers after faces are scrubbed clean.

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