1 001. summer beauty.

the bugs will kiss you adieu. you will grow on parched soils in a godforsaken garden. carry on, flower child. you're a bambino sprouting on your mother maria's blooming greenery. you grew a garden on your ribcage and the aroma will linger on the tip of your tongue and so you would puke flowers. beauty overflows in you. you're comprised of pollens and grace but you wither, you wither and you still dance on the buds of your silken skin. you keep eternity in your pockets, i mean, the daisies your father pressed between coffee-stained books. the salvation that caterpillars promised you will be etched on your skin til you die. fairies will write elegies for you. offspring of wanderlust, home is everywhere with your efflorescing poetry. but you will soon become wilted while your poems will be buried beneath the flowers on your graveyard.

just you and your poetry, you will be buried together.

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a.