His forehead
My pockets jingling
A migraine into view
I’m about to fall and he’s lurching
To save me a bruised knee
Lavender vision
Sheathes of tiny pinprick blooms
Blind
Gasping in notes
I’ve got this
And I’m gone
His forehead
My pockets jingling
A migraine into view
I’m about to fall and he’s lurching
To save me a bruised knee
Lavender vision
Sheathes of tiny pinprick blooms
Blind
Gasping in notes
I’ve got this
And I’m gone