When the world stops breathing.

Fumes. Tensioned muscles clog drained scars
With scintilating moments of mortally
Coherent french poses succumbed by
Four layers of ice cold lipstick
All chanting the truthless caption
I love you
Patronized by reckless indecency where
Weeks are meticulously compartmentalised
In galaxies of patriotic enslavement
Within those capsules slivers of flames justified
By the freedoms of hope peek
Beyond a mamoth mountain of momentarily glistening
High fives and whispers of sweet nothings
A foretold godly creation with female
Iniquities surpassed.

Deep breathe.

When the world stopped breathing
A nonchalant sigh bursts infiltrating
Boundaries of sun baked
Emotions covered in a
Silky polka dotted garment
Which so instinctively
Navigates amidst hand painted
Pits of masked happiness.

Tear drop.

Je t'aime