Seldom, Seth, I Write

It's not safe to assume anything when he renders me warm and selfless,

and I say, Seth,  it is not safe to assume the rain turns to yellow because of the sun.

No one ever agrees sunwise or from whatever makes you holy and this,

Seth, 

this makes me drop the white from the shell at the speed of molasses.

If two ever agree, the nectar that weaves from that beautiful share of breaths and silence is going to be yellow and orange maybe and warm, beautiful, tender and swift.

It's not safe to assume anything. 

Don't you dare be disloyal to whatever makes you blossom.

Safe alright.

Seldom I have strength to write about this but you weren't here yesterday.