I thought I would crumble if you touch me like you mean to touch me.
But I didn’t…but I held myself to those resonating leaves of your purple twigs.
There are these broken windows in forbidden industries…
Nobody gaze through them,
nobody makes a poem out of them…
And it makes me swear how you keep fracturing the lights…how you crave for insipid ocean outside of them…
The glass cover around this yellow light is messing around the obscurity of this fallen boulevard,
There’s insect caged to these glass peculiarities…
Tell me you have the imagination to break those insects out…
tell me you have the fluidity to make me float on this melancholic lights of night forests.
There are no reasons for me to not fall into your sleeping breasts and disappear into your melting skin…
But I have always wanted different deaths for all of these mortals here.