Touching flowers with your scream
Meeting sweets
She smiles like cream
When your hair hides melting grace
Worn out minds won’t touch your face
I am leaning far, too far above the ice
So I’ll feed my hands with cheeks of other names
I am lying under tons of porcine snow
Polyester absorbs me
Fawn
At last my parents cried
About my green and my last white
Now my darling goes to him
She will dare her cross’s skin
I’m using gloves