Geometric

Now let it fall..

Photo by Daniil Silantev on Unsplash

You sea..

I do not crawl in mustard fields see me flowers uncounting steps stuck in long socks seeds I better breed a state to read next hand-map I toss and tease the chance to be moisturized by your thirst to love me later or never again.
Don’t you wait for me. D’ont.

You sea..

I am nothing but a stone at your safe shores

If you appeal earnestly, I shall forgive and cease to rip,

an irregular bottom.

Breath..

Swedish (and not a sand particle I warm) beaches

You’re (gently don’t touch my scarface just yet) the real deal..
it badly itches.