Sparkle Burn

Sparkle burn its not your turn to take from me whats not to give. fizzle heat it not your treat to give to me whats not to eat. pattern golden hearer I sit with nothing much but a wrist of glittered finger tips. just think of the gifts drowsing in the jugs of metabolic glut pots and rotten girls drink the plugs out of sinks in the public rooms. so live for the sizzle the concrete pink rake the lantern is held high and light is on the brink of moaning. In the pit of your arm the wave of a bonfire treat the light orange in the darkness and you write your name in the block with the brightness of a sparkle burn