a girl called rosaline

she likes to drink passionfruit

tea just before the sun rises ,

and reads the colossus in the balcony of her apartment when the first bit of light has embraced her eyelids,

she is a sunkissed artist that paints

rose gardens on her lover's skin and

runs her fingertips through the thorns and licks the plum jam that

oozes from the touch,

she likes to paint her nails a baby blue with pigments she pinched from the

warm summer sky,

her neighbours say she is the ocean,

with pretty tides that welcome you        in effervescent arms, and swallows the saltwater that falls from your

eyes because she'd rather see you smiling even if it means drowning in the waters of her own misery,

she is a loving soul that dances in valleys of marigolds to the church bells ringing till her lips split and

the day is no more,

after, the mother earth carries her home and kisses her goodnight on the head, while she dreams of honey milk, morning love and starry nights.