it was june
sticky residue of ripe succulent nectarines crushed to pulp with weeping watermelon sap trickling down bruised elbows / milky banana scents seeping through cracked smile lips of dripping vanilla ice cream / you hated vanilla but god you were ravenous when you drank from her sweet honeyed lips intoxicated belly full eyes closed in sun drenched lustit was june
moist raspberry tongues spurting melancholy euphoria love / your fingers meld perfectly against the gaps of hers the sun would weep liquid gold in rose tinted glasses with honeysuckles french kissing the curves of her spine / missing six broken ribs to wedge a garden full of flowerets tulips daffodils blushed cherry blossoms.it was june
strings of colourful words melting cotton candy skies tasting the sickly sweet rot of caramelised taffy / she hated it but you force fed her until the only words she uttered were glacé cherries and fleshy candied fruit / "to die will be an awfully big adventure" you hum but she does not hear itit was june
kissing a marlboro cigarette petals frolic with wisps of smoke dancing under the brush of your fingertips tracing collarbones / lungs charred sweet with seared asters and rosy flushed skin hands limp with red wine buried in pores / dreamy in a land of fairies coughs of withered petals you fall asleep the marlboro is still scorchingit was june
two lovers entwined not knowing where one started and the other finished flesh fused in tragedy scattered ash rose daffodils / and lips frozen in time blue like delphiniums periwinkles moon lilies with smiles oozing of nostalgia the stars cease to exist in their eyes dead like plutoand i guess thats how people scorch to death on mahogany sofas
for no one knew the legend except for me
(you)
and the couple with burning flowers in their lungs"to die will be an awfully big adventure" they thought
but it was a lieit was june
and they were dead.
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Poetry𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 (𝙥𝙤𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙮) 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨 /anthologies of prose and poems/