Our world was cemented fresh linoleum tile
you always bent down to reach my voice,
I was so sweet, I feel so vile.
You tell her she reminds you of daisies and August sunshine
I smell out the ***** of cinnamon, I am canine.
Thought you were all mine.

I know she's breathless
as you shake the bed,
dancing dyad, snowed with asbestos.
And I could be edgeless
sand myself down just for you.
Polish every crevice,
I am a god in a teenage body
I could be edgeless
like a marble cast of paresis
settled upon your pew.

Pluck one from the skyline, high above my head
seems like all the sunflowers,
back from summer's heated dread.
I thumb those million petals, counting off and down the way
hoping to hear a "loves me not"
when all that yellow falls away.
He smiles on me with pleasantness, subtle blush along his jaw
and still, I cannot forget her name,
her name the crows all call.

The way Easter grass felt on bare feet
like sadness in its melancholy dampness,
so sweet.
Reminds me of the tears that refused to leave your eyes.
Spring, in my mind, much taken a backstreet.
The girls that came only with the sun,
gone with the songbirds, with the nothing and none.
Flowers of pale and humble, simple hues.
You, standing still against a backwards sky. Searching for blues on blues on blues.
That tree I’d climb until I could not find need to pluck a pear and fall to the ground
bones all split and worthless, blood gone brown.
By a certain height you start to feel so small,
wondering if to break would matter at all.
As long as May swept between our lips,
to your scream, whispering lies.
I fall in love with an empty man,
Watch him through the years,
the fall and the rise.
Now, in your eyes, stolen land;
even the cornflowers have died.