Is it too late to shrink into violets at full bloom Too early to squeeze into the round sleeves of the moon Too inconvenient to consider the hobbling leg of a ****** love ? Has my moment passed to lick up the freckles that fall From face to floor Am I too young to slip my words into a box of dogma? Too old to melt into serpents And I'm sure you'll tell me I'm too pretty to dry up in a wasteland of apathy and too confident to dive into gaped alligator comfort Too lost to soak in road map paper cut blood And my brain is far too twisted to wrap around your body buckling and cinching as armor Of course my flesh is too toady For your winter coat I've been told It's much too prosaic to embarrass the rising rays with my black aggressive grip I will reach out anyways and harbor away yellow Every second I can. That, that you cannot take away from the pockets of my soul