he was not so pretty
I remember that burning November the fire your hair glaring an immodest white, I thought you were paradise lost but you were just lost and I, the unlikely knight, too small and easily overcome, drowned out inside could not find you when you screamed COME LOOKING. Dripping with sodden lilies, my armour is an ink stain that you never bothered to read, but i know that the bomb you kept from me was only fear.