i dread the day
with what we shared
shattered like frozen features,
disfigured and all alone withering,
is this how it actually ends?
delicately feathered and face woven with beauty,
these limbs are crumbling.
this is the again and the two dressed so innocently.
an empty palm and another back
and the numbness remains as an awkardness.
she swept away the floor,
transfixing the gravity that held me.
to stop the clotting and let whispers
tell secrets to the winds
that broke these wires
which carried me to the light of your skin.
soft sopen i said,
'these blossoms, my beloved, are dying. they are dying.'