hair in the wind: sapphic fragments. | poetry

1. Beautiful woman,

starved and faded from the cold winter's snow

and born of sweet nectarines and silken petals

every Spring -- what are we to do when the breeze carries you away from me

and you gladly follow?

[...] pure and unbridled

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2. flame-like tenderness

wrapped in soft lips and

black cherry chapstick [...]

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3. I can't say I'm mad at your self-made misery.

I told you once before that you're only good dead to me.

I never really wanted to believe in you --

I guess that's why you fade away once you're out of view.