I know these people. 

Their voice box doesn’t even need to be awake.

I know their character by the way their lips are dressed.


A streak of blue, 
I know their brain is sweating stress. 

A display of rose, 
I know their flirtatious fever is always contagious.

A heap of&nbsp;&nbsp;crust,
I know their anger stings the meaning of trust.

A stream of moisture, 
I know their soul sooths and heals the shadows.

A thin size, 
I know they seek comfort in a box. 

A big size, 
I know they feed off centre stage.

A nest of cuts, 
I know they want the gift of love. 

Justine Louisy 
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