Sun
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up here, I’m drowning
My dear, I’ve warned you about flying too high, but you never listen to me, much too enamored with my rays. They will burn you. They will be your demise someday. This matter eats me alive, out here where there’s no air. When I look to you, see the wax that’s covering your wings,…
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sinewed attraction
when I think of you I think of tulips sunlight tinged with mirth I fancy you are a force greater than gravity
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playing with fire
If I look at the sun too long will he blind me? patronize me? Or will he blush? I reckon that those rays would burn me alive make me feel alive
Éloa 