Magenta, like the taste of your lips against mine
The blurring of the galaxy as our limbs intertwined.
Whiskey, like the summer sunsets we had by the lake
Where we skinny-dipped and I almost broke my spine.
Subdued, like when the tide is on the ebb
How we sat out like fowl, watching Helios and Selene align.
Vermicular, like the perforations on fancy cigarette filters
And the state of my feelings attempting a line.