I once met a pumpkin, not orange or round, It loved me despite its unconventional form. It saw me as a mango, warm to the core, though he didn't ripen, my belly with his love. I call this episode a septum of nature.
Sun curtained the moon, with thoughts of you, a grave of gold, built in air. The star is buried. You're here within, a frame of bones. Love once, squealled here. Now silence, kingdoms. ♡