Flying over, gliding numb on time that has no when
Kissing me delirious, proof we are still young
bloom and show their gift
Shaming grace to crawl those final bloody miles.
In honor of these memories I do not have, this imagined salute to ~…~ with a wink and a squeeze directed to our curious times.”
Painting curvy colors each our favorite
Surrendered to the mob, the choice they make is hate.