I thought the moon forever in the sky would always be in the sky but then you handed it to me gave it to me on a silver platter it tasted of sour pear and apple it filled my mouth with winter song and euca lyptus
Marbles made of sweet canes with a dash of cinnamon. Varnished tresses of lyptus that bathed in the glow. Petals that once knew the shade of heat. Now sour, fade and bleak in the face of nature’s decree.
