you

were an instand-seed
all it took was a little water
and then you bloomed

you tasted
like harp-music
you sounded
both purple and green

you
thoroughly romantic
talked about a girl - and the dream

i took a sip of you
in order to taste the purple and

green

i know why you tasted salt
it was my water -
it was my fault

you
the little seed
harptea
only bloomed once
only bleeded once

but now
it'll always be my fault