She kisses the boys and girls that pay the most attention. The boys play with vapor and her girls play with tension. I wish I was the only one that she will decide to touch but I am who I am and, in a way, that is too much.
Sawblade-sunflower petals wrap around an earthy cushion, and the humidity hangs in the air as her beige body is crumpled and I feel too sober, pushing.
Baby yellow falls apart, in her hair the flower starts to trickle onto sheet and pillow, decorating the absences that define how hollow she and I have felt before -- ******* like an endangered species on the killing floor, I whisper once, I whisper sweet, "Don't you wish that we didn't meet?"
She kisses the boys and girls that give the most attention. I played with vapor and she played with tension.
And what doth she speak, O brother?
"Eternal is the damnation, Fleeting is the mercy."