fuck August

and you will fear death not

after all those transparent lukewarm sips

so many, even my finger looks like a maiden

the pale rose petals I baked

are pale enough to make me sick

and be sold as love

walk the stairs up, walk them down

one step is granted

the wrong before you collapse

heat and moist more willing than the most

available and ready

fuck August

and you will fear death now

.