apropos-tea:

Her heart is filled with brine,
Tears that are not hers
Neither are they mine,
But some inconclusive sweetheart
Who at one point made her shine,
Minutes, hours, years ago
Back when things were fine.

apropos-tea:

Her heart is filled with brine,

Tears that are not hers

Neither are they mine,

But some inconclusive sweetheart

Who at one point made her shine,

Minutes, hours, years ago

Back when things were fine.