the stars we're made of

iii

saccharine sweet lies

mould her caramel love

into dusted sunshine syrup

and honey dew lips of

blueberry shades dipped

in mandarin-glazed concoctions

for your strawberry pies;

now she brews cinnamon tea

and offers sugar cube hearts

with cherry velvet bruises;

molding liquid china

into something sweeter,

better,

l o v e l i e r

(but it is never enough, is it?)

-for she can hurt herself too

_

Sanem