dream not of winters, gentle storm
       let rosy summer whispers warm
your thunder heart, restitched and torn
       by fleeting waters
                        silence-born.

I.
try on the boy who doesn't know what kissing is. just that he can't tell anyone. can't show anyone. this boy thinks he's supposed to shake.

II.
try on the boy who tries to reclaim his own lips. who gives up. and instead, he tries to tear them off for years. he tries to make others help him. he tries to drink things that burn until he can't feel them.

III.
try on the boy who kisses in the dark and can see this one clearer than any other. he isn't afraid or shaking or intoxicated. it burns nonetheless. he stares at this boy he can't see, this boy who knows what he's done to his own mouth and somehow isn't appalled. who somehow wants to be the first good thing to touch him.

A cute and detailed steel cage
Because who arrested her knew what he was doing
A steel cage, with curves painted with gold
The girl inside was so pure
Velvet face and autumm colored lips
Flying hair between the bars in an innocent dance
But inside the perfect dance
She was unhappy
Why was so unhappy someone so beautfiul?
Because she was trapped
Nobody should feel trapped
So free her and let her live
Because cages are to fit and not to arrest
-d.a