Photo by Ramez E. Nassif on Unsplash
I trace my collarbones. How
delicate they are. As pearls.
Too fragile and valuable for
your careless fingers too hold.
The way my frame caresses space.
My weak body that carries a
deeply strong and tired soul.
You would never understand my mind.
Oh, so glad I am to have not given you
even the chance.
The fire of my youth and my wisdom
excited you.
And, I drank you in like petrol until
my flame
burned
blue.
Blue. Blue.
In my ashes, you would have swept
her feet along and pulled her waist
into your future.
Leaving me in your past.
About the Creator
Katerina Petrou
Combining my passions of travelling, food, poetry and photography, I welcome you to read my stories.
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