Don’t pick me.
Water me, adore me, care for me
Admire me, love me, touch me
Stroke me, hold me momentarily
Now let go, before you hurt me.
What happens when words whisper? They form poetry. They tell stories. They breathe life. Right here…
Don’t pick me.
Water me, adore me, care for me
Admire me, love me, touch me
Stroke me, hold me momentarily
Now let go, before you hurt me.