Mandarin

Nectarines, rosemary

Don't fret on me, guitars playing

Mandarin skies are gone

When your problems under microscopes

Cold winter I like the fog

Breeze blows through my scarf

Chocolate frogs, dead flowers

Street silent, early hours

Don't speak when you're walking

Transport, tombstone hour

Leaves crunch under chucks

Honey spilled on the counter

Silver coins in the cup

I wake up like volcano

Heavy boulders, off my shoulders

Off the charger in the shower

Hot water, steamed glass

Wipe a circle off the mirror

See my self at my purest

 Towel over me, don't shiver