Tulips.

Tulips.

Sheer wax
sun and candles
peeling back the gauze
and you burn through me
wide
white
worn
and weathered
I stretch.
You bleed.
I burn
you win.

Tulips. in the sun.

Author: @michaelvitaly

Theatre Maker. Teaching Artist. Student of Life. Poet from way back. View All Posts

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