The Blush

None to offer a just amount
To micro, still too far
None to nothing
Nothing, nothing
Nothing, nothing cool

None to love her a just amount
To micro, still too far
One might love her
Near as long
But never half as full

I can’t see any body in dark
And the movements roar
And I’ll never tell father afterward

None to care for
Neither, necare
To see off and go
None to care for
None too naive
Hanged, we swoon in the gate

It is always, always open
Art is not to see
Another fruit replaces breastless
Differencе beat beneath

And I laugh aloud by you
Doеsn’t it make you depressed
Goddamnit