Sometimes I believe the
only reason my lips are
flickered on my face in this
grand fire of red,
is to say I love you and
kiss you and to
do dark things that
keep behind the
shades.

These ligaments O
What were they
created
for? To feel your
gooseflesh and
blushing
face, warm like
petunias

And I am your
carnation, daisy,
flower. My busy
bee, scholar,
how everything glitters
gold with
you.