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~our palm lines are made of pores~ smoke siphons

~our palm lines are made of pores~ smoke siphons and spreads. sky catches and keeps. safe, i feel. lines on my palms turn grey and blue while those on my forehead, a smouldering green. i heard, as humans, we have no time to be sad but it's this sorrow that pours through the pores in our hands, reminding us, of the little time that we call life and i think that's why we don't grow up to be old, we age, at different places, and become the life we were always meant to be. We smell of life, at different places, in different forms. 💛 #theunsungquill #poetry #itsjustmeandmypoems
~our palm lines are made of pores~ smoke siphons and spreads. sky catches and keeps. safe, i feel. lines on my palms turn grey and blue while those on my forehead, a smouldering green. i heard, as humans, we have no time to be sad but it's this sorrow that pours through the pores in our hands, reminding us, of the little time that we call life and i think that's why we don't grow up to be old, we age, at different places, and become the life we were always meant to be. We smell of life, at different places, in different forms. 💛 #theunsungquill #poetry #itsjustmeandmypoems
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