her brain is small / moldy place / the powerhouse of mites. cells that produce her and regulate her are the size of iron bits / ones one uses for fifth science experiment with a bar of magnet / also known as the force that drives MRAS / earth's very cushions and strives for order / to keep two people in the same room. eventually, they part ways.
she has masculine hands. her mane suggests horseplay / (only if you break the word in halves / and digest 500g of paracetamol, staring at those letters and never knowing what brought her to have / a Greek nose / a fashionable imposter!)
a bulky watch adores her / her who studies history but of English language / out of morbid and sheer fascination you only encounter at dead poet's society. i love her like spring loves autumn / i make no prior claims to make flowers bloom or the leaves dance / but nobody else catches the light
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SEPSIS waltz
Şiir« i know you need the upper hand even when we aren't fighting » #2 in abstract [aug 19, mon] ☆ 2024 © ENGELS
