Flowers bloom yearly
then die. We make beds
for beauty, sheeting them
to make love. Lovers coil
wrapping skin, sweating to
make a future enshrined with
devotions to their own.
Damp ground tread on by
feet running to demand what
they want for themselves. Running
over flowers pinking towards the sun;
wild, growing without struggle, until
they are trampled.
Jan. 26, 2009
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
Flowers bloom yearly
then die. We make beds
for beauty, sheeting them
to make love. Lovers coil
wrapping skin, sweating to
make a future enshrined with
devotions to their own.
Damp ground tread on by
feet running to demand what
they want for themselves. Running
over flowers pinking towards the sun;
wild, growing without struggle, until
they are trampled.
Jan. 26, 2009
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