The Girl with the Rosy Cheeks

The Girl With the Rosy Cheeks

Who is that girl with the rosy cheeks—

Who glides seamlessly over the cracked earth in razor stilettos?

Who is that girl with the rosy cheeks—

Who wanders beneath the hollowed skyscrapers

With the moon on her back

And the sun in her eyes?

Who is that girl with the rosy cheeks—

Whose floral lips bloom upon pallid skin

Like a crimson rose unraveling in the bitter snow?

Ah, I know that girl.

She is a comet with no tale to tell;

A song that will not sing

And a voice that will not speak;

A pleasant face rouged by tears

And sincerely me,

The girl with the rosy cheeks.

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The Sick Moon

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Existential Loops