One day I realize we are wanna-be pop stars imagining a world of music videos

wanna-bes who do not see their own bodies exceptwhen fragranced in lavender syllables or in pop-song-neon,that way we never have to think of the fear of losingparts/ the ones who do not know how to feel when they feelrelieved that someone else dies — not us, them. We were more than just art as survival Like when you improvise in dreams, so instead of bombs, lavender blossoms swell your skin.