“Hollow, Waiting”
It holds nothing until it does.
Clear, but never empty.
Full, but never satisfied.
The outside sweats,
the inside never does.
A mouth with no voice,
only the sound of what leaves.
“Hollow, Waiting”
It holds nothing until it does.
Clear, but never empty.
Full, but never satisfied.
The outside sweats,
the inside never does.
A mouth with no voice,
only the sound of what leaves.
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