So, so beautiful.
It’s like she doesn’t understand how much I’m taken.
Those powerful lines of integration.
The smell of the ocean inside her thighs.
The shine of the moon beyond her eyes.
A metaphysical redundancy where the logic gave up.
She’s Opal Fruits and Starburst filled with a rough love.
A broken radius.
Bespoke unity in a world not made for us.
Dance anyway, else the show stops for me.
It’s a pity too,
What’s so cold can be so beautiful.
© G.P Williamson 2018