In the rays of the sun, in bright daylight, the truth is clear to me that boys can be beautiful too. They smell like strawberries and fresh cream well their glistening eyes are filled with the sweetness of lemon dreams.
I know that boys can be pretty, as pretty as the birds perched on the toppest part of trees. With the taste of peach blossoms blowing in the breeze.
I swear I’ve seen them wonder through dark infested Jungles pouring out fires and documenting tirants. they seem to vanish when night becomes sunlight as if there were some pumpkin fable awaiting for some sort of transition.
These pretty boys live in nature and like leaves and branches they weave in and out of touch, leaving thousand unable to distinguish truth from fantasy.
They are no prince charming or leading man, they are the wild untamed balance waiting to attack. Their lustres looks and tilted minds sway them from left to right avoiding binary, as its suffocating. If you see these pretty phantoms that wonder in and vanish after. Be informed, they are deadly passions.