Your stomach is real, I can feel it,
More than the womb, through
The first petal I ever adore,
Your rosey skin
In a burn, moonlight-glazed,
Silvery, beautiful.
Your blinking pores, angelic,
No one breathes, I
Know it from the very beginning.
Heavenly and emotionless,
A useless throat,
Ungrateful neck,
Cracking voice and weak whistle,
Childlikely broken.
Your stomach is real, I
Know it from the very beginning,
Dry and sour, clever and hygienic,
Scentless and free,
Beautiful.
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
Your stomach is real, I can feel it,
More than the womb, through
The first petal I ever adore,
Your rosey skin
In a burn, moonlight-glazed,
Silvery, beautiful.
Your blinking pores, angelic,
No one breathes, I
Know it from the very beginning.
Heavenly and emotionless,
A useless throat,
Ungrateful neck,
Cracking voice and weak whistle,
Childlikely broken.
Your stomach is real, I
Know it from the very beginning,
Dry and sour, clever and hygienic,
Scentless and free,
Beautiful.