her hair, rich yellow
God, my soul dies, sun hits deep:
Tendrils of lost love.
About the Creator
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More stories from Melissa Ingoldsby and writers in Poets and other communities.
The First Hairline Cracks
The first cracks never look like cracks. They don’t arrive with drama or warning. They don’t announce themselves as danger. They hide inside the very things that feel like power — speed, clarity, momentum, capability. That’s why they’re so easy to miss. That’s why they’re so dangerous.
By Elisa Wontorcik2 days ago in Poets
Comments (6)
Beautiful and heartfelt.
beautiful piece. Well done.
So gorgeously written.
Very well written!
All the way to the core, that sun! Well-wrought!
This was so poignant yet so beautiful. Loved your Haiku!