humanity's gaze leaves dirt residue
on her silken flesh, but he rinses it with
his impervious nature and adoration for
non-conformity. her mind tumbles with manifold possibilities — destinies
that she could breathe, encased
within his spindling arms.
he is her imperishable succour; a
tough backbone to slump against
when somebody gobbles up
the cosseted sunrays.
YOU ARE READING
romanticism of monsters
Poetrycareworn and smiling with a crooked grin, adoration slept in the wrinkles beside his eyes as he observed the mosaic beauty. she held his callused palm in hers and whispered to the moon; "tonight, we're monsters." romanticism isn't always beautifu...
