Summertime Pining
The sun is envious of the way she glowsAnd the moon whispers her name every night like a prayer, a plea Curl up in my craters and never leaveI, of course, cannot blame them, For planets align when she parts her lips,Each tooth Oscar Wilde’s tombstone,Covered in kisses from every great lover, and IAm still foolish enough to believe that she could love me.Why would I be worthy of the girl who pla...