All I can feel is these frezing filanges set to rosy red cheeks.
For this little piece of blue and orange has me writing at all hours.
Restless at all hours.
And you’re what’s on my mind.
…And through your sarcastic sputterings, we actualize the truth.
And I so wished to spring forth from bed with your arrival
That I sprung,
And did suddenly feel my feeble new legs giving way under me.
I tested the truth and saw through your lies.
And when I see you illuminated, I see the rest of the night more grave.
As the space around a star,
Burnt out lightyears away.
Two short poems.