we struggle with red we always have
we tap roses
i am dizzy been drinking coffee
their thorns looking down on us always dominant

my little thorns are so razor
that you can cradle me in both hands splash it
and **** the blood right out of my pinky pinky
and stay cornered

i will recede
until me that you can fit in both hands
or bend until futuristic dreams and i am doing my best to stay rooted
but i like the pain in my toes
cut off the daily worn

i cannot make sense ever
because i see the last of the summer smoke not the windows
i never see through only between
that makes me feel good
because i kiss the sun's reflection without daring to look up