April 14, 2020 Or, A Poem About Mistakes poetry He never understood that wet on her face didn’t mean torn umbrella and sometimes when she called she just wanted to talk to somebody Share this: Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Like Loading...