branching veins,
black pupils...
Inhale-
smoke in my lungs...
when
at long last...
cursive is the best way to describe my pen
because only the quaint wish to read...
If you're wondering who you are, I can tell you.
You're nothing. Nothing but a number...
12/04/2017
Friday night...
When I think of you,
I think of the color purple...
Pre-dawn heading to the airport
the hidden sun casts a yellow haze...
A subtle scent of lemony zest,
evokes a spicy titillation...
This is who I am...
my hands tremor to the point...
I don’t need confirmation or
spelled words to know...
If I could find all of the smiles from all our...
then I would put them into piles, soak them in...