Beneath my abhorrant palm,
your ivory chest rises.
If my lips took a kiss,
would the serenity also come to be mine?
Outside my window,
there is a construction worker;
dirty, insecure, an ashamed worm.
How much would he pay for the
string on my fourth finger?
I promise, love,
you will awaken warm.
Should you strive to undertake me,
wallowing in salty tears, straining vocal chords to
speak my first name,
I'll just blow you away.
My darling dandelion,
I never want to see you again.