darren_luaf

Face

Her flushed blue jeans are a story.

A bit toxic, a fox with tricks.

You talk about a razor and a process,

And starts a project at the wrist.

Her face hidden in a book,

In disgust by her looks.

Her room is her partner.

Four walls are her armour,

expressing opportunity,

Only when its darker.

The only place she shows her face.

 



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