Title: vanilla heart show
every dream that you’ve ever had of me undressing you is a manual on how to come out of this alive.
Tell me how we’ll make it, and how we will keep on running until our feet only know the wet earth that is conjured up by spring and honey bees.
Tell me about the raw complexion of your taste buds when they lick firewood from the flaming stone of my belly.
Our limbs are kissed by lambs.
Our laughs are birds thrown into the sky from the nests of our throats like twittering thunder.
And our hearts are swollen with the fresh sweet whiff of vanilla that radiates off the bodies by the long awaiting dock, stretching towards wine red sunsets and a sparkling cider moon.
So Tell me how God will weep for all he did not do for us,
And I will show you another sunlit evening that promises a safe tomorrow.
Now tell me how every dream of us together is a manual for green lawn care and happiness.
Tell me we will have it soon enough.