| Soft satin shoulders under white schemes and brothel sins. The sun that ponders a day and makes insects curl under it's rays. A dead man sitting--a learned mind rather contextual rather than experimental. Out on the outside rug where the blades flow accordingly to your kind's footsteps, I'd have to say I missed you if you could hear it. You save me--saved me. A seat among the green and breeze, a sour carnation placed above the blush and hair that wraps the ears and ends the eyes. How dare you say that. You are unimaginable, inconceivable. Would it be wrong to pull the sheet away--see your pretty face. But we rest in lemon tea time where sugar hangs from the upside down grass and salt from the leaves. Dessert lips like vanilla--cold, kerosene fingers but I kiss you. You keep me. I'll live forever beside you in life; where I find another in death. I'll paint you white. |
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