I
Tears cool,
Sweet juice dripping
Down skin so smooth
Like blood from a wound…

Streaming in a mad bass line.
She wanders aimlessly why
Her joy fills the empty
Spaces where

Something else should be.
Should, should
She never quite did it right
The way the others say…
She should.

But then again, if she did
Would she be so
Real in the now
Fingers strumming long
Lean lines of him.

She breathes deep
He likes the bright
Laughing Peach.
And keeps her that way.

II
They had stepped back
Moving closer in.
She smiles her way, a
Cool mischevious grin.
Confused yet soaring,
Questioning no one
And nothing, just being.

III
Her god will kill her
Sweetly and with passion
As her heart knows no
Other way. She will let him.