Fairy lights b l u r
without my glasses.
Sight is so cumbersome
and I wish candy floss
was wearable
like a stained cloud.
The sound of magpies
terrifies me
how awful to love things
that glitter.
Give me mud,
wet and brick red
and chapped lips
from hiking in winter
or kissing too hard.
Both my parents love
lilacs
but not each other.
I’m partial
to sunflowers
in flesh, not connotation.
If loving everyone
is True and Good
what about Cruella DeVille?
She wanted to kill puppies.
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