we could steal
colours from auroras, use them
to wash dying flowers? would you be
more patient when they beg
for water?
i am saying
what if somehow,
you never got tired
of me/ of my poems/ &--
you no longer smile
when i hug you
from behind.
why have you chosen
to watch me
wane?
YOU ARE READING
Endless. Blue
Puisi"the day you first told me you loved me, it was hot, the sun picked at our skins like god was trying to kill us with a magnifying glass. . ."
