Honey suckle green tea and grass leaves,
Aphrodite-can you stop doing this to Me?-
It's painful you see.
To go through this melancholy steel and titan strength suffering.
The golden whispers tickle my ear and my rusting, raspberry heart which bleeds Blackcurrrent waves of
Discomfort
And distaste.
Aphrodite, please take your firm, platinum hand away.
Remove it from the chocolate flakes of my broken rib cage,
I beg you.
Remove the locks that vault my joints in an awkward way, caramelized and frozen icicle pops.
The sun rose for you, Aphrodite
But it burns for me.
Take this away before I make us all freeze.
YOU ARE READING
118-79 Sunshine.
PoetryWords that are addictive, and liquid sunshine that makes the world trip, God like beings brought down to simple mundane things. We are all simply swimming in a river of burning Gold.
