She wants to move at seriously soaked aside free-willed pace
Cinnamon Girl of ours
This. Has. All. Been. Outrageously. Distilled.
The beautified pill of lip-pressed against starry-eyed kinds…
To soar, to gloriously pull you in at equally rarefied will
We’ve been waiting for your particular milk bottle-bodied reflection to make all kinds of poetic sense again
Say soon as you’ve been artistically tantalised by a most alluring disguise of righteous arrival
I’ve simply never ever felt any such need to turn this shadow dance shoulder in any way cold
Just saying – pressed suitably against- so You Do Get To Knowing
This is My Forever Flow, so take the time to pour on in
Float up, catch my pill