Flipflipflip.
Paper against paper.
The most dangerous weapon lingers within
The fibers of the page.
Words.
Words.
They hurt.
They heal.
Flipflipflip.
The must scent escapes.
Once fresh churned wood now pressed
Into sheets sharper than knives.
Cut. Bleed.
The sting hurts more than a stab.
More than a punch.
The tiniest one's the worst.
The smallest phases contain the most
Potent poisons.
Flipflipflip.
Another saga over.
Another adventure is waiting to
Be discovered.
Black? Orange? Purple?
What about red-gold?
What makes it undesirable?
Its elegance?
Richness?
Beauty?
What makes it desirable?
Nothing.
To you that is.
To me, what's desirable is,
What's to you,
Undesirable.
I see no flaw amass imperfection.
Perfection is imperfection.
A fatal flaw is our most desirable trait.
Ignorance is bliss.
What goes unnoticed by one
Will be noticed by another.
And that notice is me.
You may have the blacks, the oranges, the purples,
And even the greens and the blues.
But save the red and yellow for me.
The red-gold.
The sunset.
The sunrise.
The rarest of them all.