HER WINDOW FACES THE STREET
She doesn't collect hearts
she steals them
Her hands touch you and
you feel healed
When she sings in the shower
she sounds happy
Even though all the songs
are about regret
She doesn't forget a thing
even small details
Her garden is a Monet
and smells like heaven
she steals them
Her hands touch you and
you feel healed
When she sings in the shower
she sounds happy
Even though all the songs
are about regret
She doesn't forget a thing
even small details
Her garden is a Monet
and smells like heaven
Labels: poems
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