with entanglements of toes
and endless canvases of skin
braided into white bedsheets
with eidolons of sweet nothings
and pale ghosts of nicotine
dancing in luminous crop circles
across our dusty bedroom floor
—let us stay awake: reality's finally better than my dreams anyway
YOU ARE READING
ETIOLATED
Poetrythe silhouettes your eyelashes construct upon slavic cheekbones #42 in poetry 20/07/18 #40 in poems 16/08/18 #34 in poetic 20/12/18 © charlieisaneatfacade 2018