Tremble at the taste of innocence,
Because it’s a cloudy flower
That can only blossom once in everyone’s life.
It will taste like h(e)aven
(like the warmth of her
sleeping in a set of cold sheets)
But also as hell
Once you had licked the lollipop again & again
And the core is dancing bittersweet.
 
Tremble,
Because you’re devouring an entire childhood.
You’re swallowing the blissful blindness of blossoming summers.
You’re the ultimate thief.
(You’ll even get to know the taste of running through a wheat field).
 
So drench yourself in honey, dear-
Drink until the last drop,
Be satiated just to become famine himself…
 
Ask yourself:
What does innocence taste like?
And then write a poem.
A rather short one.
Pick up verses in the field. Harvest lullabies from her lips.
Let her fists sow the crop in the sheets.
 
But tremble anyway.
(Let white lightings flare)
Because when the clock strikes midnight,
The one-night-only flower will blossom,
And you’ll get to be there.