Lips: like cliché cartoon roses.

Yes, red.

But open up my mouth,

Those lilies will  -   snap.   -   You.  -   Up.

Thorn in your side.

I think we used to fly with the bats,

The doves always ended up on our dinner table,

I told you it was chicken.

You choked me with Amen,

You squeezed me with your hand for grace,

For grace, from grace I fell

Down from the heaven...

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(I'm aware this is a controversial poem and I hope not to offend anyone but I make no conclusions, I only ask questions)

The nature was deteriorating.
The sky was falling down,
raining pieces of ashy soot,
crashing and burning
and you weren't there.
Why weren't you there?
The birds squawked and screeched
and in-between their cries were mine, calling
and I was reaching out to you.
I ask...

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