Turning a page in the book of Days,
The world read between monochrome lines
Has a sun falling down a distant grey.
It burns with no color.

I turn around,
A red balloon off in the distance
Causes a single tear
For the forgotten memories
Of a childhood left behind.

I do terribly wonder what the other side is.
Whispering, I stroke the air
In the night through my eyes,
And the light-breathing cries.
Panicking, I burst for breath,
Wake-finding inside myself
The stench of death.
Who will be my dark bride?

Feed me your words,
Your eyes.
Hold my hand
Through the bramble-bush;
Let me feel it tug.
Show me the color
Of a night for two,
Melting through our fingers;
Breathe with my fallen lips,
Touching for our love.