There is poetry in your eyes;
the call of spring rests on your teeth.
When thieving lovers punch and prise,
in generosity you bequeath,
a piece of you in evergreen,
a piece that leaves you incomplete.
How vulnerable and bare you seem,
and your lips taste of defeat.

[it's 9:28pm and the moon is sending me tremors and I'm
burning but nothing makes me shiver as much as your]

Eyes steeped in beauty agleam,
as lilacs bloom around your feet.
How vulnerable and bare you seem,
your lips taste soft and sweet.