1. the lilac he stuck behind your ears are whispers of dulcet melodies composed of spurious romance.
3. the vehemence of vintage poetries he dedicated to you are false pretense submerges in a serpent's poison from the chalice of saints, evoking the advent of illusive dreams.
5. those confessions he shared in the language of sweets that sounded like french delicacies enshroud the underlying tone of eloquence and sweet nothings.
6. the warmth of his saccharine smile shines a bucket of white lies—a dalliance of deception.
darling, he let people believe that he can parched the sun, touch the moon, kiss the sky, twist the trees and swallow the waves brought about by the mischievous sea. he drinks from a flute of love-note and make believes with a dash of sugar and melancholy. he's the master of treachery ensnaring hearts of stranger beguiling innocent smiles.
sweetheart, let go before he gave you no hope of salvation.
