Lace

I'm one hundred flowers opening up at Once. Honey-strung, freaked and crinkled pink. Breezed by air. Breezed by air. It whispers through me. It whispers through me. I'm one hundred flowers Opening up to the stems who turned out. The bones gray and blue in me. In beams of weightless wax. Every little loop. Just one thin thread. In tiniest red, I string along, I string along. Every detail made. Every detail made. Every detail made makes for the Perfect shade. I'm one hundred flowers Opening up from skin, crinkled pink. To woven curves curved. In flower patterns bright. A blessing on a thirst like this kiss. Softer than whispers. Softer than whispers. I'm one hundred flowers Opening up at once. Honey-strung, freaked and crinkled pink. Breezed by air. Breezed by air. Breezed Breezed by air