Poezja

You pretend― there
was no god. I want to
see your eyes color.

Like lovers, two stars
collide in midnight dark.
Miranda was the lead.

What was the politics
of legs. They always take
you to salt lakes.

No self-loathing,
watering, the leaves. Roses
will not shed the thorns.

My vision will
see through your mask. You
are going to jump on flame.