QUIET CURVES

If you peel the beetroot bulb , does it blush or is it just the way it was always ? Ah …men and their fantasy , I smile. Even if you condescend to be just a weapon in a revenge plot , Do you really think I can reduce you to that size or stomach deception for my selfish reasons? I find a lamp in the storm , too sober for arson. Some parts of my terrain have been quiet forever , no one knew to find my depths or touch the tips of curves , they are soft in their solitude.Like the sky who knows where she kept her fluorescent pen on a cloudy night. There is company in the tear drops on one more pair of young cheeks I was wiping last evening in a dim lit psychiatry ward.