Your nails were
soft pink crescents
they chafed
along my cheek.
You plucked
the silken petals
watched them wither
at your feet.
I fed you dandelions,
Picked stems
from your teeth
with my tongue.
But in the creases
of your mouth,
I saw the weeds of doubt.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
Your nails were
soft pink crescents
they chafed
along my cheek.
You plucked
the silken petals
watched them wither
at your feet.
I fed you dandelions,
Picked stems
from your teeth
with my tongue.
But in the creases
of your mouth,
I saw the weeds of doubt.
Inspired by Shane Jones' "Lightboxes."
