our rosy cheeks grew rosier
as the sun learned our names
sand comes in mounds of sycophants
who have only spoke of us in vain
the waves have mistaken us
for one of their own
prune fingertips
the salt must be smothering our bones
the gilded sunset
reflects in your eyes
i can only imagine
the art i shall witness at sunrise
tell me
which flavor would you like more?
"honey i only speak in color"
rainbows i slung til my arms were sore
blue ice cream
has surrendered to your tongue, how kind
your mouth is drenched in a midnight hue
and therefore so is mine
blind men i envy
for they cannot see my demise
you, irradiated under the stars
atop the shells but below the sky
YOU ARE READING
deluge
Poesíaa downpour of thoughts, a delve into the most intricate inner-workings of my mind 2020 © rosy
