pale pink sundress
she's got a dirty smile
a daffodil sprouts
in the cracks of the
shiny Michael Amini
kissing cashmere lips
glossed with materialism
of a hungry bird
you can't tell dead people
to suffer, they're already dead
she's salt in the air
mixed in with the spring's stroke
the shades of floral seasons
and the early creamy sun
followed by empty half-crescent
arranged viola moon
i just want to see you bloom
in reds, all across the
white carpet
i just want to see our shadows
thrash in all directions;
your tight buttocks
firm against the bay windows
for any traveler to see
us growing together
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
bang bang!
कविताyou know what would be more cool than a blank white cover with text on it? a blank white cover with a toy pistol on it, of course!
