Pantone 1788 TCX/lipstick

An agreement written on star-ridden skin

We turned red flags to green flags

A tussle of teeth, neck, next

Nighttime sirens turned silent

Retreating into shells of each other

I felt a womb within your branches

Surely, the sky was the moon

I felt roots, in you,

Crowded and cramped in an empty tomb

I felt your branches bend and ache

Under the weight of a wind booming through valleys

Of truth and narrow night hues

This tomb has no room for me