Thursday, April 15, 2004

words flying quick like moths
rest upon your mandarin brow.
fluttering wings in upward motions
like writing directions for a cake box.
it's a seldom silence;
surely that which whirlpooled its way into your heart,
and cosmetic tendencies.
pride in a blush brush
or love in dead lipstick.
i'm proud.
*bettie* at 9:49 AM