You are not red clover tea
I am a basker waiting for sharks
To tread the water in fin-love
& remedy is not vanilla-flavored
Orange tetrahedron or gargoyles
Pretending to be pretty.
I am not a leather rose
You are not a leaping lemon
There is a memory that has blistered
Into letters on my face
I have not held a baby
There is a repose in silence,
Joining hands we become
A chain of paper dolls
Rippling like hair caught in the current.