her smile tastes like apple juice
so crisp and colored in red
let's hope she survives another night
when she feels she's better off dead

She makes me glad to be alive
Though her power dangles over me
I have an infatuation with her
And yet she hopes I don't stay till morrow

red
orange
yellow
blue
she doesn't belong with you
pink
maroon
black
green
with another boy her heart is seen

Between your breath
in my hair
the weaving of sunlight
by the window,
the sky’s audacity to resemble
that of a painted sorcery
violin legs intertwined—
darling, i am
undone.
Stay.
Blow a gentle kiss on my skin,
but forget, I shall not,
that this all but a dream.
Let me lament
a morning dressed
in apology.
Let me toss and turn
to a quiet soliloquy.
What is there to grip
but a ghost
molded by the loneliness
of the night.
What’s it like to be the lonely?
What’s it like to be the night?