China
Her
Porcelain skin
She dances like crystal raindrops
Falling from the sky
I
Tangled hair
I cry like the howling winds
Over the dry plains
She is like a delicate china set
Meticulously stacked
She will never fall over
I am like the hard and cold cement
On the avenue
I am unnoticed, masked under the rough surface
Copyright © Emily Busemeyer | Year Posted 2023
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