Rivers of mascara
Rivers of mascara roll their way
Down Rosie's cheeks, her heaving sighs,
Exhausted eyes, she cries herself to sleep.
Rivers of mascara cold and grainy on the
Skin, a broken heart bleeds in the dark,
Black rivers long and thin.
Rivers of mascara mark the night when
Things went wrong, tumbling over cheek
Bones, salty memories on the tongue.
Rivers of mascara ‘don’t swim there’
People said, deltas set against her,
Passions exit, lonely bed.
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