March has gone ..
You amuse me, my dear. You make me laugh with my eyes wide open, blood-red champagne frothing from my cherry blossom lips. Have March gone away as soon as you greeted me farewell with kisses and charming smiles along with your written love letters on my pallid wrists? Oh, pretty one. Take them back, for the saddest poems have sold me out and buried me six feet under ground. Take the scraps and pieces you left on the floorboards as you pack your worn-out suitcase with my heart stitched on its handles. You’re the kind of man who collect broken … Continue reading March has gone ..