Friday, 23 August 2019

17 Days

An ant tickles across the back of my hand as my fingers tug idly at a strand of grass. The clouds above swirl and melt like liquid marble.

You'll never admit it but I know you love me.

And I'll never tell you, but I know I love you too.

A small breeze nudges at the pages of the book my thumb rests between, and takes our secret with it too.