Two, three, four,
Or more years more,
You and I,
In a love so pure.

Yes, you and I,
In a love so pure,
Listening to your
Christ Church lore.

-

The ocean slept from the poppied water
that washed him.

-

The true tip of his nose,
Roused my verse,
And carved the universe.

-

Cloud be not proud,
Of thy vain drops.
'Cause sweat his,
Has perfume endowed,
And quality unbowed.

-

A spring one made,
With butterflies you gave.

-

I quiver in the river of you.

-

Can I stitch you to me?

-

When poppies do their drug select,
Pined were you dear mine perfect.

-

Once upon a red pain,
The woman did rain.

The moon did sync,
Till the man did sink.

-

And on times,
When I can murder my family,
I choose to talk to you,
Actually.

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