Chapped

What was it you said before the clock struck?

People were talking so loudly and

I couldn’t hear what it was you meant to say.

Reading your lips has always been hard because

There are no letters,

Only dips and gentle folds of smooth crimson,

Dark plum cracks from cold weather,

Ghostly flakes of dead white skin where you have worried.

By Sophia Rabb, Contributor

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