This morning,
I watered the lucky
bamboo you gave me

I kept it near me,
I let it be kissed
by the sun,
I took care of it

Not because
you asked me to,
but because I love you

I know that I am the thorns,
and you are the ever blooming rose

So why am I
the one bleeding?

Darling one,
I only ask that you
dance in my blood,
and drink it as if wine

Bloom for me

The day you left
Azrael himself wept

And the suffocating silence of your
absence was deeper than your grave

Who dares **** a child
by burning their yellow?

It shivers and weeps,
and in oblivion it sleeps

Since you took
your last breath

The food tasted
like the bruises on your face
like the dry blood down your nose
like death

When I stood next to
your still body,
your corpse,
you

You were quiet,
I searched for you in your eyes,
but they were swollen shut

I tried to touch your face,
but the coldness of
your skin burned mine

My heart is grieving,
my skin is burning,
my eyes are bleeding,
and you are still dead

To taste your tears of joy
To drink lavender tea poured from your mouth
To savor your lips after you have licked them
To wrap your curls around my neck till I suffocate
To melt into the scarlet of your cheeks

This is not a love letter,
I simply long for the forbidden parts
of you

If you still wish to seek me for
another poem,
another momentary desire,
another ***** tear to lick,
another night to melt,
or for a little death

I will be waiting,
burning,
yearning,
for your small hands