Diandra Rose

Can you escape into the whitest of my midnights.
The stickiest of your chocolate honey.
The most natural of galaxies colliding.
I miss our collisions. Making you shoot stars that weren’t so impossible to catch.
I want to carve my name in cursive across the canvas of your back.
I want to give you some of my crazy homegrown black.
I want throw all of it back for you.
On you.
And then pray about it.

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