a crumpled horizon blossoms
as fingertips splay tenderly
across weathered cheeks;
velvet against stone.
pouring herself into the sun
as it climbs up the rusted sky,
she envisages the lonesome
mars and is grateful.
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...
