Mariko21
The homeless man was sitting on the shore, shaving his beard in the mirror of the river.
She added white dots to her blue neon nails, as she kept imagining her pale hands touching his soft skin and how he'd smile while watching them.
Rocks upon rocks, they stood, as rounded as ever. Weighed down by moss and weeds, the wall refused to fall down.
"Murder", the heart cried. Her hope is dying.
His face had soft features. Except for that crease between his eyebrows. The days in which that crease went away completely were getting fewer and fewer.