pure
my hands were ash red
you clean them up
with your antiseptic whites.
i saw you first
never noticed your hair
your eyes
your words
u came like a blur ink spot
like a natural pendulum swing,
the way the wind brings the dust;
the world revolves on its axis.
if you said you would cry
and exit,
i would believed you;
life was a patterned veil
you were clarity
a bee would not sting.
and you did;
-way before i cried
and sang
and dance-
disappearing in fields
of strawberries
those ripe red
redness.
a bird as blue as the sky in heavens.
i hear yr soft beckon,
a wispy wispy sad cry;
your demise tore him
into words,
into white pieces.
one day,
when you present me with a wish
of thorns
i would take it up in my hands
-ash red.
antiseptic whites.
you clean them up
with your antiseptic whites.
i saw you first
never noticed your hair
your eyes
your words
u came like a blur ink spot
like a natural pendulum swing,
the way the wind brings the dust;
the world revolves on its axis.
if you said you would cry
and exit,
i would believed you;
life was a patterned veil
you were clarity
a bee would not sting.
and you did;
-way before i cried
and sang
and dance-
disappearing in fields
of strawberries
those ripe red
redness.
a bird as blue as the sky in heavens.
i hear yr soft beckon,
a wispy wispy sad cry;
your demise tore him
into words,
into white pieces.
one day,
when you present me with a wish
of thorns
i would take it up in my hands
-ash red.
antiseptic whites.
