A girl of pink is a woman of tomorrow
curiously daring in a a churlish abode,
it bears the baring of an updo most daring
a baring of fixation on a singular mode...
the story be tarnished a bit... but be bold.
A wantonly woman has sought out her seeds
a daring gardener of dandelion weeds
the gardener of truths is what her soul needs
while the world truths are hunting
for the soul haunting bleeds.
It might take a crone who hasn't a care
of a bleeding bedbug who isn't quite there
like a pear in a partridge or porridge stirring
on a stone bridge somewhere.
It's pink and orange in a daily swell,
add in the purple and the wounds
could tell... transmutation, it happens
and it's just as well.
I see what I get and I get what I see,
I know nothing at all
unless it's all about me.
All that I know can be undone with a kiss...
from where it will go, I don't know
but I think it is everyones's wish.
A kissed mouth that feels love
will never hiss!
