balancing punches against my waist line
with creatures and cancers that got
close enough to figure me out.
fingers nestled and danced with a thin boys spine
they spooned honesty
through quick teeth with
impossible intentions.
never planning but learning lessons.
planting gardens around
a king on his throne
soft as sand
who gets thrown
off by the sweetness
that floods through his veins
when a tender lipped tulip
breaks and bends in front of his eyes.
wilting in water
and falling on pine, a look from a mother
and they're dead right on time.
grasping fortunes for reference
as to cause birthed through preference.
fouled by income, the souls follow in some
and the door is unlocked like in a waiting room
but no one ever dared to get up and walk out.