Touching flowers with your scream

Meeting sweets

She smiles like cream

When your hair hides melting grace

Worn out minds won't touch your face

I am leaning far, too far above the ice

So I'll feed my hands with cheeks of other names



I am lying under tons of porcine snow

Polyester absorbs me



Fawn

At last my parents cried

About my green and my last white

Now my darling goes to him

She will dare her cross's skin



I'm using gloves