You hang on my daisy-thumb,
Hooked onto my spider womb
And as these lips spit sunsets
Snow weeps from your mouth.
Arms of bark roaming - limply,
You swore a name upon a liar
With moonbeam grins of hope
These limbs are your concrete.
I've fallen in love with epitaphs
And it is now I know, it's better
Not to be born with pale wings
Living in a heart caught on fire.
Dabbed onto blushed laughter
And sunk with promises of red
As love grows cold around me,
I will be death - a prettier thing.
Stefanie Fontker
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mea-culpa-6/
