Dandelion seeds whisper your name towards the end of the day,
can you feel the mantling of the sky?
Among roots and blades of grass lies self-restraint,
why is it that the sun refuses to sleep?
My breast filled with the humid emotions of June;
what is this alchemy?
I fell in love with the way your eyelids closed.

Speak, the heart’s descending to darker depths
of meaning,
golden in its knowledge of the realm’s return to dust;
do you see the delicate way in which assassins touch machinery?
As though aware of the weight of conscience;
my apologies,
that was a dreadful misinterpretation of monstrosity;
they possess none whatsoever,
keep walking— repugnance will dry anybody’s lips,
what does increase in fahrenheit have anything to do with it?
I fire up the clouds from dusk till dawn,
my tongue abrogating sweet milk that it has tasted over the years;
it’s no longer acceptable to be immune.



Photo credits: Pinterest

Song Choice: ZAYN – Dusk Till Dawn ft. Sia

Skylover Wordlist: Machinery, fahrenheit, speak, golden,
dust, assassin, return, medicine 💝

Posted for Weekly Scribblings @ Poets and Storytellers United