You call yourself an angel...

So many feathers falling from your mouth...

Touching me like a summer pool...

...

I could swim in them for days,

But the water would get cold eventually...

Too cold for me to stay in...

I've got to get out...

...

Your tongue is a roll of cherries...

Your voice;

Like a hymn of saints,

Carries me through the midnight after party...

Where we express our confetti towards one another...

And aim for the cake during the dark...

...

Scratch me till the blood bleeds violet...

Let your maple syrup drip on my lips...

Give me a reason to stay with you...

...

After the roar of the lion,

The smoke we inhale will come after...

Take us to heaven while we laugh...

And realize love is more than just feather words.