A frail, pellucid, deformed, indistinct, cylindrical jar towering above unkempt, blotchy, matte drawer sits silently among empty, hollow bottles. Inside hides the ashen remains of your once iridescent, glistening soul, I still remember how I carefully pour after I watch you burn in whole. — ©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo credit: Unsplash In… Continue reading The Jar’s Secret
