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Jul 2020
I know these people.

Their voice box doesn’t even need to be awake.

I know their character by the way their lips are dressed.

A streak of blue,
I know their brain is sweating stress.

A display of rose,
I know their flirtatious fever is always contagious.

A heap of  crust,
I know their anger stings the meaning of trust.

A stream of moisture,
I know their soul sooths and heals the shadows.

A thin size,
I know they seek comfort in a box.

A big size,
I know they feed off centre stage.

A nest of cuts,
I know they want the gift of love.

Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2020
All Rights Reserved
Justine Louisy
Written by
Justine Louisy
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