but it was July 7th and I relied on God's favor
you made it come true and ever since then I'm no longer godless
you started by plucking the wilding
ended up scratching your tender hands
but you said "everything's fine," as you wrapped a bandage
then you continued watering down my grave
you had to walk miles to find a glimpse of waterfall
stepping on sharp pebbles, leaving sticky red liquid all the way to the grave
"you're beautiful yet untended, it's such a shame"
you said as you spread different kind of flowers
I swore I could smell them six feet buried underground
it was summer
the rain wouldn't come any time soon
so you replaced the sky's duty to water me down everyday
once again you saved me
when it was supposed to be
a divine being or the universe's onus
"you're now my summer project,"
"but I don't want this to end soon,"
"love never goes out of season."
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