a sprig of pink

United States

I want to remain
anonymous, if you please.

Message from Writer

who knows


April 1, 2019


my piece de resistance
is not mine at all
it is your smile, oozing white
through full mango lips.
my irises melt into 
supple pools of stumbling words
obliterated phrases
no one understands
except for the floor that holds the ticking
of life
rotted and old, veins crumble
for it is not a heart of gold 
but one of black
have you heard of such a 
as wide as the fleeting vallies
that i long to lay in
vines-gaea's motherly grasp
envvelope me in warmth
i do not see the 
clouds that linger sweetly
like a baby's breath
but instead your
crinkled eyes
fireworks chinked
in silver
for i cannot fathom your beauty


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  • April 1, 2019 - 9:48am (Now Viewing)

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