Crimson and easy on the eyes, I’ve ever seen, darling, kiss me nauseous with the murmurs traveling from your teeth. We exist in wordplay, you are aquas, you are pinks, I am prairies inviting you future home. A year is a long time to wait underneath our nail beds but I felt like we could twist the definition of lacking to fit our webbing.
I chatter. You turn your head.
We can bustle too, brimstone tracks and carbon paper copies of fidelity. I teem and writhe and seethe with reflections on armor versus strangers; I am the comfort you call home (touching the road). Like a knockout with the sun down, in this framework shades coated alabaster and gold. When sugar prior electric– I miss your taste and promise.