| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
![]() |
Loss of Color
Don't, please... I need... I'm sorry... On so many levels. "Poetry/experimental" |
| I bleed to watch you go, a stream of scarlet reaching for you, following your footsteps. Kneeling, I clutch, in ash-gray arms, your portion of my myth- begging, coaxing the wilted remnant home. Did you know? Did I hold a place of honor? -or did my gift waste away on some dark, forgotten, dusty shelf? |