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Premiere Generation Ink.
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walking home from my last Wednesday ever. Lost in the branched maze of ten thousand purple blossoms Glowing in hazelnut spring abundance Stalks pressed in parallels to the sky And freshly mowed honey grass that sticks to the back of wet thighs When the air matches your skin Matches the air matches your lips And the spray of phoenix fountains puts a chill on pre-summer cheeks This is how I know I'm in love Because the mud puddles are glorious The city is pure jewels And I can see it all. Erin Duehring This poem is appearing in the Book twenty-three |
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