Author Information
Insinuate
Folder:
The Old Stuff Fifteen years old
Momma's little girl
She stands out in the cold
In a skirt
The suburbs are nice
Or so we are told
Precious ornaments covered in ice
She waits
BMW's driving by
As she walks down the slick road
Lets out a big sigh
As he rolls down his window
Acquiescing
Letting go
Barely breathing
Lifeless
At her reflection
She stands, gazing
Lost the sweet perfection
The sparkle, gone
