my guy pretty like a girl
electric soul, gentle touch
velvet skin, unfinished lunch
violets grow in the valleys of his ribcage
forget-me-nots blossom on her skin every night,
the places on her skin where his fingers last fell,
when the sun was alive
sunflowers hiding in her short blonde hair
daisies intertwined in moments shared
the boy wants to predict the weather
but in this garden of wild flowers
and wild thoughts
it never rains
the flowers keep on growing
occupying the holes in her chest
where there once was pain
his words as sweet as honeysuckle,
the soil
her blood as red as roses,
the rain