I left
because I had to
prove it to
myself-
but I see
my reflection
in your
face, a landside.
clover from
lawns
torn with grass
and all
tied to your
wrist-
the delicate
jewelry.
pointing at
the jar
I say, this
is where honey comes from.
(I’ll never
leave you.)
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
I left
because I had to
prove it to
myself-
but I see
my reflection
in your
face, a landside.
clover from
lawns
torn with grass
and all
tied to your
wrist-
the delicate
jewelry.
pointing at
the jar
I say, this
is where honey comes from.
(I’ll never
leave you.)
