Her Blanket

by | May 22, 2014 | Jezebel and Myschka, Poetry, WritersDigest.com | 0 comments

Empty.
You sit draped over her chair,
still scattered with her hair,
wondering where she went
leaving a familiar dent
still holding her scent.
I cannot yet move you.
I feel like you do.
Lonely.

Myschka in her chair

WritersDigest.com poetry prompt 263:- write an object poem

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