pastel

I think there's always been a memory/moment
or vision of me, sound, as cultured as cats,
two weeks off my mind. Hair huge
as the beehive branches and deep red
ribbon run throughout.
My eyes were like fangs themselves.
I never needed to even open my mouth. Sky was
as blue as a daisy. Invention, evil like ivory
arms, slight as an all night shiver just waking from.
In our minds, this was somehow the way we made
me. Colors were the most important thing
about you. And all I am is what is seen, so,
you couldn't come any closer. My skirt was
long, and hung on as the kind of question a riddle
could be made from. In bed, and while waking,
happy still now to be alone. but You became a page
in the planner I'd need someday- My life. it feels
far from me. I slipped off-- we went once together-
a soft voice from head to head "give back
my goosebumps, my very supposed baby.
you are big as definition, you and you will
be there
in all these, existing dreams of mine. pastel