Cold, wet woollen jumper.
Soaked through.
The sound of the rain pouring down,
Is so cosy.
Leaves a smear of substance in its wake,
Washes everything away.
Everything.
Even my essence.
Personal blog
Cold, wet woollen jumper.
Soaked through.
The sound of the rain pouring down,
Is so cosy.
Leaves a smear of substance in its wake,
Washes everything away.
Everything.
Even my essence.