Comme il faut
In my the interstice
Lilliputian rooms you are made of millions, hundreds of rooms
Melodic tangent zephyrs encasing
I’m still cross legged, wide eyed and frivolous
It’s the hours where I am able to postpone clocks; it’s the fence I’m draped over
Little lashes, big lies, big love
Azures, Slates and the colours of the dimming day dance upon your face
I take repose on your bureau knowing I’ve filled all its drawers
I got the hours, I got the owls, but I let my paranoia show
Comme il faut; dear.
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