20 January, 2016

Some Things Only Happen in Spring

How about that
exhausted glow of unremarkable love

red-rosed sonnets,
That sort of thing

Romance is such sweet manipulation
Affliction not to be trifled with
while I can’t stop thinking about death

Syrups, glowing,
clogging up
Hold still please

Give me your regional dialects
You all smell like sugar
Even when I don’t need you

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