There may be a hive mind between what’s beautiful and acceptable

Between true love and charlatans that kiss for a month hold hands and explode

The bow tie on your lips match the clavicle of a thousand others but salvia is so individual and I can taste you apart during the most crowded party.

The clouds look different after we split the sky not beautiful bubbles, just sacks of rain, things that could have been a has been a never was in the sky collected god with our dreams awfully never letting us be successful, god forbid a big break for a model or a writer or a painter.