deepundergroundpoetry.com

blue hues

dusted glasses
brimming with
the hopes
we once knew
the tip of my tongue
remembers as
we tread upon
floorboards that give
with bare wood
dappled in
fading blue hues
that follow the
parchment and ink
bound walls scented
of musk and leather
the oddity of comfort
in this place
occupying a time
encased in amber
Written by bruised_fruit
Published
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