Your words to me
like teeth plunge into a peach
the pink of gum and blood on tile, white.
Lately you have much to teach;
lonely, stone fox is not evil to be,
only when he tears at mouse does it not feel right.
Lets her live with muscles tight...
Trust has replaced the holy three,
made peace an enemy
in her robes of sweet and jasmine green.
And now your smile, by sunlight, bleached
curse the rays that rise on East
and breaks the skin of a rotten peach.
Waits for the glory of ending's blinding light
so glad it stole away my sight...
and I can only feel the dampness in my bed at night.