and I will rise once more
with the morning sun
my same waxy skin
and melodic melancholy
the birds they cry
and it is beautiful
and you spread our pollen
and watch that pretty porcelain skin
turn to flames, your rose-tinted glasses
may hide my hue but I can't stop sneezing
Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 7:01 PM UTC