Insects collect when nectar sensually, organically reflects on the mirrors that see silk vines!
Skin dips with the fingers that hold hips like canvases of thickness, whine as the wine shines.
Honey bees can't feed without purified skies, hear the sarcasm in my voice and make a sacrifice!
Don't trim my garden; don't have enough dragonflies to criticize fertile moans that come with this merchandise?

YOU ARE READING
When Only Paper Can Save
PoetrySueño con un paraíso colorido, que el himno nacional sea un latido. The flag will not know bloodshed. Bad people will see what's truly up ahead. Yo quiero que el humano sea humano y que sus acciones no sean en vano. I want people to be treated e...