She's beautiful. A (beautiful) mess.
Looks stunning in dungeons; she's french-kissed dragons.
She calls me out in theme-taverns, challenging me to duels of wits.
(the wager's my head, so I surrender: a witless motherfuckin' son-of-a-gun)
Sweet, like cider, with spider-flowers in her wild green hair.
We compare notes on psychedelics, femme boys, and Afro-futurism.
A millennial Judy Garland partying in the Emerald City:
"Bells will be ringing, for me and my gal!"
Vivacious.
So vivid, she's just--
Full of bright, neon light,
Flashy flashing delight.
A tinkering belle who'll knock your lights out,
a social butterfly flittering electric sparklers through the crowd.
-- the type of girl who knows simply everybody--
Out by 1am, away she'll go!
a postmodern pixie Cinderella
(she kept track of both tennis shoes, tho)
Off she flies, to Morocco or L.A.
And I stay.
Stay & see...
About the Creator
Halston Williams
Eternal Student: literature, poetry, history, art, and philosophy. English Teacher. Writer & painter. Traveller & skier (when there's $$$). I'm young enough to be foolish, yet old enough to know better. Lover of dark & beautiful things.
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