So full of color
our possibilities once shone like a sunny...

This tiny line holds all the grand things we'll...
but you're too lustful...

I don't care if you write,
who needs to prattle about...

There are no souls without substance
in need of a torso...

I'll be dreaming of tangerine smiles
and kool-aid kisses...

You're impossible to love,
with your red tape and blue ink...

Love left my little shell again,
just to prove to me...

So many images
can fit in a sigh...

I'm wilting,
and I shouldn't expect you to care for my garden...

I hate you
for not calling...

You said, "you break my heart when you write...
Mine cracked a little, mutating from its matter of...

It has been drab and bony
since your leafy palms gave shade...