September
Wednesday 1 July 2009 photo 1/1
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Her beauty has me
It nourishes the air enough
That roses grow in the wind
Without soil
I could scream sweet nothings in her ear
But they can’t be heard
Not over the volume at which I adore her face.
I thought I was so clever and keen
Dipping a rose in honey
And her the butterfly to suckle
I’m such a fool
Standing at the ebb of her iris
I realize how lucky I am to be reflecting
When she blinks I’ll be trapped in her moods forever
This is a place I will call home
A place where roses grow from honeycomb.
It nourishes the air enough
That roses grow in the wind
Without soil
I could scream sweet nothings in her ear
But they can’t be heard
Not over the volume at which I adore her face.
I thought I was so clever and keen
Dipping a rose in honey
And her the butterfly to suckle
I’m such a fool
Standing at the ebb of her iris
I realize how lucky I am to be reflecting
When she blinks I’ll be trapped in her moods forever
This is a place I will call home
A place where roses grow from honeycomb.
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