no one ever complained when the stars hit your back.
when you tore my sheets off. only to reveal a perfect paper flower on my left arm.
tears i hunted for. any sign of emotion was blinded. snuffed out like these greek walls.
white. only to reveal a simple scratch on my leg. sea salt stained my favourite denim jeans.
black leather shoes that got thrown over board.
how could i complain with your tongue in my cheek.
tonight these stars play us a song: sleep is for the seas that wear my black flat leather lace-up shoes.
black openings only to reveal the images of last night. i heard you dreaming of paper dasies.
and of how much of our lives we fit onto a canvas.
where is the greek sun.
i complained that night.
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