For All SeasonsShe smoked joints like they were cigarettes, and wore paper dresses in December. She sipped hot coffee in August, and would only freshen up to peruse a near-by bookstoreFor All Seasons
She made love to a man once, that would quietly hum; Through her ambiguity and cold stature, her heart beamed an incandescent red color.
She thought the word love would be as easy as hate, but her own coyness in the word proved that she could never say it
Stoned, she wandered door to door, waiting for silhouettes to approach her own silhouette
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