Her meaty thumbs and clatty nails
Touch nothing, her lips only mime
This fragile echo, ghost female
A throwback rippling through time
Suspended, oblivious to
All that's here and now to me,
I catch my breath, can this be true?
I whisper, smile, as if she'll see
Despite the thickness of her hips
And chunky arms and monstrous nose
She doesn't know she's delicate
She's silver, grey and monochrome.
About the Creator
Lacey Dearie
Indie author 📚 Blogger 💻 Humanities student 👩🏻🎓 Editor of the 27th best blog in Scotland apparently 🏆 Unapologetic daydreamer 😑 Natural introvert/selective extrovert 💃🏻 Member of the Cat Writers Association 🐈⬛
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