when i grow up, i am going to
buy you a big house on the moon /
/in a crater, by the stars
where it's always
bright and you are always
shrouded in a silver, in a moonlight, in a love so sweet it turns you salmon pink
—where i will be soft and you can sleep easy and we can
breath in celestial delphiniums and exhale euphoria and
it is beautiful, because i know that's what you've always wanted (to be beautiful)
—even though i'd love you the same and
maybe two more on earth, where all it
takes is a half-skip to be
something less (than beautiful)
YOU ARE READING
OPEN-BRAIN SURGERY
Poetryshoved a needle in my brain and now my head won't stop bleeding
