skin and hair tips.
and nail beds with glittering particles.
constellations you can draw from my freckles, which are like crocus
skin under the light and wait to lukewarm.
me lick the tongue, which tells the story of foxes and
me whisper something in the ear, usually only heard
sea and the cries of the night sky.
look 'inside me, because organic is
and bloody it thunders through my veins.
foot stride, I'm not after,
my lung oxidized into a meteor shower and I
pulsate like this.
my eyes are a blur,
is all behind them a forgotten dream pastel.
give thoughtful boatsmen held out as peppermint,
soaked in milk foam.
skin explodes under fingertip.
you have my heart, make of it what.
constellations you can draw from my freckles, which are like crocus
skin under the light and wait to lukewarm.
me lick the tongue, which tells the story of foxes and
me whisper something in the ear, usually only heard
sea and the cries of the night sky.
look 'inside me, because organic is
and bloody it thunders through my veins.
foot stride, I'm not after,
my lung oxidized into a meteor shower and I
pulsate like this.
my eyes are a blur,
is all behind them a forgotten dream pastel.
give thoughtful boatsmen held out as peppermint,
soaked in milk foam.
skin explodes under fingertip.
you have my heart, make of it what.
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