khoda hafez

Wading through water
Knee deep, lukewarm
Jeans rolled up
Past her thighs

The pre-sunset sunlight
Shimmers off
The droplets of fresh
Perspiration on her shoulders

The haunted ebb and flow
Of dark and mysterious waters
Holding her
Down

And what was she holding onto
But this weak anchor
Of small talk
And broken promises

About peanutt

Writing is like breathing; I live, I love, I write.
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