I hold inside my palm an old bronze key
Covered in dust.
I am sitting inside my grandmother’s house
The week after she died.
I am missing her.
I do not know what this key opens,
I have never seen it before….
Freshly Bottled Stories
I hold inside my palm an old bronze key
Covered in dust.
I am sitting inside my grandmother’s house
The week after she died.
I am missing her.
I do not know what this key opens,
I have never seen it before….