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.