godbless the skyful eyes of her star-by-star smile. a make-belief miracle, fireflies in a bottle, ultralight, and giver of bread. yes, she, she who can make honey dance out of the tea cup. when i hold her hand i know the sun must be jealous. oh, she's beautiful, but she's a PILL.
on an unrelated note, i'd like to sing all my melancholy out, pour it all into a jar, and toss it into the ocean for some lonely fisherman to find. be forewarned, i don't sing like a singer, but like a poet who patches a broken voice with bandaids of words.