

Sewn-up Butterscotch.Sewn-up ButterscotchSewn-up Butterscotch.
Memories are sewn into my brain Baked into my judgment My nostrils, my tongue, recall the butterscotch biscuits.
You often waved to yourself in the mirror. You often saw fire in the windows. In May you moved away, father said. They put you into a house that smelled of dust. You shared your armchair with moaning creatures in suede loafers. In November you moved again. I never saw your new house.
-
When I took the recipe from the brass tin That had been protected by your living heart I found the letter, smelled o


Louisville Sky-jewelleryLouisville Sky-Jewellery.Louisville Sky-jewellery
She took advantage of the bursting fireworks,
The rainbows drooling over their smoked
backdrop. Squeals leaked procrastination Into the condensation Of gunpowder in the tearful sky
Thunder over Louisville Smoke, Smoke makes the eyes of the couples fill As they delight and overexcite At glamourised markings of warning lights,
While their shoulders alligned Their hearts recognised that This earaching bliss was
too much to miss
The women clamour while theyre
saturated with glamour And the


Verity's Necklace.Veritys NecklaceVerity's Necklace.
A suede sky Draining to grey Her discarded future Il fait mauvais.
Lutte après lutte Try after try Hearts want to love And Verity tried
A magpie and a half Three wings, two beaks One encounter for a lifetime Forty winks, Forty weeks
Lutte après lutte Try after try Hearts need to love So Verity cried
When curiosity thrills you Could it eventually kill you? Two golden bills of superstition A monochromatic premonition One for sorrow, two for joy No


Sioux, Sin, Boil.They rejoice, and they adore you.Sioux, Sin, Boil.
You will make one. Make a stand - not intentionally. You will make a stand in front of the patronizing curls and The naïvely knitted eyebrows. You will not choose khol liner and you will not choose gloss. You shall not choose brass buttons nor will you choose silk and
They will resent you for that. Crowds do not forgive.
Turn the most humble of juices into wine. Turn their blind eyes to the truth.
You will climb the pedestal, every pull, kick, grope of the
Wooden frame will tear at the fingers of your ambitious hands  
-pJ
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