lovesick transpires a singular golden speck in all of its perfect exhaust
careless to an ease that drips onto the flesh of yellow driveways
purples that tether promises in skies of forever memories, like gravity
there's nothing else i could ever translate effortlessly to tongue's tip
nothing much else to do of the unreachable
so i guess i wish there had been more midnights promised for that summer
an august year birthed in delicate laughter
and bike rides in so many circles
a pathway splintered onto granite countertops
where even the sun can split through a thousand words meant to burn me
Tomorrow,
By wallfleurrey
mostly french, More