'In the old days at home the Neverland had always begun to look a little dark and threatening by bedtime. Then unexplored patches arose in it and spread, black shadows moved about in them, the roar of the beasts of prey was quite different now, and...
i woke from this terrible dream of your fury (you wanted to strangle me, and i mean really) and you'd said that you were over it -- quickly (to be honest) but you drink like you're not and i wonder if you're hurting, really.
my thighs are milky white as the seasons turn; i am turning in circles like those three near perfect spots on my wrist (dove ho spento quel fumo, certo) that holy trinity was adrenaline because i still love the thrill and the ashes and the blackened derma.
i put lipstick on (because i really mean it) and where do those things begin? my sister and i pinching each other's skin to see who could take it longest, (she always won but i win now really.)
jumping from the swings, teeth in the bath, red on white and the ribbons in our hair, i am seething scarlet, sweet cherries and wine (but i just loved the colours)
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