Ah, the spring. The comforts of winter are snuggling away, and the daylight we saved is out stretching. Hooray! But one thing is certain, no matter the season, I'll be a squirtin' a lather of reason. So, grease up those elbows, and sharpen your sticks, as we welcome the springtime to harvest the wicked..
Polished by the steam
Lifting from the window
Frothing at the seams
Savory and softening
And studding with it's beads
The angels in my coffee
Summoning the cream
Slickening my whistle
Slathering the glass
With licks of rising ripples
Of freckle fattening gas
Tell tale of springtime
Velvet textured baths
Salves for the big eyed
Blemishes for bats
Mother's milk is hatching
Supple for the lamb
Honey for the flaxen winged
Butter on my hands
Crafted to a morning mug
Blasted and ceramic
Speckled by the fuming flood
White and wet with magic
Warm and just solution
For blackness of the pores
Glory to the lucid
Acne on my horns
http://princessgarbageface.blogspot.com/2015/01/a-thing.html
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