you
are making me disappear
and
the written words are magic
that
i can no longer reverse.
you
sleep on the length of us
and
we are disappointed in
its’
green. we are delusions of
us
living upwards
while
our backs face this
cereal
sky; respond to my
trembling
knees as they ask
your
ground eyes for forgiveness.
i
am proud to be your black rose
heart
of hearts. fonts and magic in
a
midsummer night’s dream while
the
cement of our pasts arise with
stapled
skins.
because my feet touch
yours
and the path is enlightened with
our
fatigued role play. we are the
same
purple sky that fell in love
with
the open breathes of suicide
lovers.
