Flowers
In my head
Filling me, meekly
Like sweet milk and
Warm honey, choking me
It's slow and heavy, your breath
Dizzy kisses, your nails across my skin
You pull me closer, and will you bruise me?
Violets on my shoulders and little rosebuds, breaking
Droplets of blood t
There is a reason why you smoke, Miel.
You claim to hate people – yet I spot you on the rooftops of churches, cathedrals, in the parking lot of the towering shopping mall, watching the bustling crowds with a strange glint in your eye.