He thought I didn't notice
the words on his tongue were impaired...

Outsiders perceive me
in a series of random ways...

With only the rain to hear me,
my voice grumbles within...

Quite frankly, my dear
the air never really sat well...

I could lose myself
to the white noises of summer...

God showers mankind
drenching our tart budded tongues...

The air smells of sandalwood
and fills my nose...

Winter does not fit me well
with it's white skirt of frigid drapery...

Who, who, who
braids words in her hair...

I have two voices...
One tongues of fashion...

I am
pretty ugly...

I could have loved you
with all the originality of truth...