your hair appears darker when wet. black, corded, thick as puzzlegrass. a companion in contrast to frosted cupcake blue eyes and incense burning in the ashtray.
memories thrown in the laundry pile with the wet towel swirling upon your head. your smile bitter as asparagus, staining my ***** for the next two days. your frame soft and slender as balsa wood.
Iād eat your air freshly oxygenated and bend you into an arc. the waves would split on your bow and shower my face wet dark corded thick as puzzlegrass. then from your finger the standard of a dove leaving olive branch in mouth into the frosted cupcake blue sky.