there were surrenders that
happened before my off beat
became real. indigo diagnoses
portrayed just how far we bled
and when your branched remorse held
on to mine we were the last
butterflies that
tornado falsed the skies.
invisible lined protection
after, life. there was a pause and we ended our grass-grown eyebrows and curled up against our dreaming eyes. this is where i leave you, and...
