write me beauty in a simple line of lead
ink traced on fragile skin
teach me beauty
trace your finger over collars –
hearts and lips and crimson blood –

.x.

Tell me beauty
translate your words into love
(because love is what we’re living on)
show me beauty
( 3, 2, 1, action, cut,
all that’s in-between)
its time to not feel it slipping away –

.x.

A.N.Yes i dont like the ending much either. i'm not quite sure where this came from; my attempts at being poetic have been quite dead. Been unbelievably fatigued lately as well.

loves