we are made of golden rays of light and the ancient greeks had our love sculpted before we knew it was there. we are heaven, we are velvet and honey and pretty colors. we are also black ink splotches on letters, shakespeare wrote our tragedy before we knew we would face it. we are hell, we are rough and poison and dark acrylic. and there will be times where the dictionary embedded in my lungs will not recognize the words you try to make me believe. just know that i'll get a thesaurus for my organs and you'll slow down the pace, just so we can fit into place again.
and i love us for it.
YOU ARE READING
ur sleeping on the couch
Poetrysticky cantaloupe sunrises & kissing ur soft honeydew mouth
