Intricate patterns cover our palms as if being read by a horoscope.
Like jupiter's moons pulling the waves, I had been pulled into a revolution of evening butterfly kisses.
Out of nowhere came an eruption of white flowers from the ashen floor.
Vintage lights remember to remind the dead to go faster and the present to blister into ice cubes.
Extravagant ball dances cover our foot prints that had once lead to the eastside salty breeze.
Yellow suns and white clouds had only began to introduce their lovers name.
Once upon a time my fellow peonies had beckoned towards; Dragging father's to their fragmented shields.
Umbrella's weren't needed for this stormy weather.
