ur sleeping on the couch

vie en rose

i spent two weeks in paris, letting my words soak between walls made to hold a rebellion. i spent two weeks carving poetry into the bloody structure on my body, washing impurities with cheap wine and bathing in rose water try and touch me and you will burn. i spent two weeks tapping out tunes on vintage pianos, two weeks being watched by angels. two weeks learning what it is to be holy, divine, ethereal in its true definition. to be sweet like stringy cantaloupe and bitter like broken pointe shoes. two weeks in paris two days amongst the skeletons of the revolution. two weeks of learning blood flows golden for those who realize it's worth, two weeks of holding jewels between teeth instead of bullets. i have changed, my dove. i have changed again.