05 August 2008
blue coffee cup
A blue coffee cup sits on my desk, pale and solid. In its emptiness, its hollow white insides, there are marks of what has been but has now gone. A pattern of coffee stain like ripples of sand on the beach after the tide has departed. Like dried up rain on a dirty window which leaves streaks of unwashed darkness. Like tears of mascara on the face of a heart torn girl, she tissue dabs but the traces of her misery remain pale and solid.
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