april says

and if i’m green and blithe and warm like spring would you wrap your summer song around my frozen chorus and make the days last longer like twilight walks circling sleeping parks and navigating me through the revelry— the triumphant harmony of love’s plundering army— and paint me in your picture with blood from a rose and sea from the sky and let the maize of sun be your eyes and bathe these lies of truths and burdens of proof in a glance best left for faded black and whites where i am the rough edges but i know we have the negatives buried deep in our minds somewhere in boxes cut from old calendars with the winters crossed out and the thawing fingers of spring running childlike through the fresh cut grass