Fourteen

Here are the trees, here is the summer sky And here is a dulled opera, and where am I? Humming, Strangely careening on the pavement, Dangerously clumsy. Daydrunkard. - she floats on air, clamourously flying the outside dragging at her skin, the inside crying for an amorous sin. There's raucous peals of laughter, clinking earrings and eyes clear as glass. This beauty's not a shy one, though this kiss is new (yet long-anticipated), though childhood's passed though this spiked breath is saturated with "you". Here are the trees, here is the summer sky And here is a dulled opera, and where am I?