You have come through.
This is the noise of cars...
Do not think of any butterfly!
With amazing rainbow coloured wings...
I miss the night sky...
The real sky at night...
Clip not the blind of wings to let them soar
give them the tools a path your love to find...
I picked up the blade
like it would help me sow...
She is hibiscus tea
quenching my soul...
The night unbraids
my bones...
Crippled
by your sharp tongue...
When looking for a color
I must say...
Gods gift to women
never an Adonis just...
The sky smothers me with showers of cold
but I grin as though, I am soaked in gold...
Perhaps I have become
immune to inclement...