The sorrow in your Levi blues
Boyfriend jeans left behind
By Kemari HowellPublished about a year ago • 1 min read
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Photo by Abhidev Vaishnav on Unsplash
Denim left behind
Still smells like sandalwood soap
And my salty tears
About the Creator
Kemari Howell
Coffee drinking, mermaid loving, too many notebooks having rebel word witch, journaling junkie, story / idea strategist, and creative overlord. Here to help people find creativity, tell their stories, and change the world with their words.
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More stories from Kemari Howell and writers in Poets and other communities.
Final Call
She flings her arms around my neck and squeezes me like she’s never going to let me go. My head spins as her lips brush against my cheek. She must be able to feel my heart thumping in my chest. I shuffle backwards and ram my hands into my coat pockets, watching her reach down and heave the rucksack across her shoulders.
By Caroline Craven3 days ago in Fiction
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