"it's a prince's duty to
welcome his guests,"
the queen told me.
"it's the prince's duty to
dance every lady,"
the king whispered to me.
"is it a prince's duty to dance
me this long?" she asked me.
"who cares about the guests and the ladies
when holding your hand is the best
part of my evening?"
–if only i could say that.
YOU ARE READING
lovesick
Poetrylove transforms princes to poets. the thoughts he writes down; the papers he slips inside the glass jar. (a/n. prepare for a shitload of cheesiness) cover art by © saegome
