14
You look like someone I could bury
in a garden
With clothes rugged and eyes sunken
With lips that taste of remnant black cherry
I’ll cover you in a dozen dried sunflowers and
Later I'll dig you up
I'm trying to forget you.
Your ash blonde hair will still be stained of the smell of smoke
You will still have a crooked, contagious smile
You are now a ghost.
I won't reach out my hand for you to hold
because you'll disappear.
And when you choose to haunt someone else's dreams
you’ll think of me.
Sorry
Sophia Luna