frozen kisses hold more warmth than seven saunas backed up with people, than sixteen candles in a line lit one by one and smocked out the window. there is an inexplicable sadness when i am sitting here and i am seeing nothing, i am feeling nothing, i am nothing. and the condensation marks three parts humidity two steps back and ring holders hold not rings, not anything or anything at all. a river of words is so dried up and it hits, it hits la vie en rose, the vines are nothing but entanglements that make beauty and it is so spacious that love itself takes a backseat. mallrats, cat stacks, tongues melting on hearts and i feel nothing but lust. to burn, to feel matched with a star and to feel constellations ringing on my back, watching my steps and marking my arms with celestial swords. plant me, keep me here i do not care, i feel not the hunger for love given by anyone.