strands of your hair linger
intertwined with my veins
cold, they were before
now warmth is all they feel
and even though your veins are gone
your temperature remains
my body refuses not to
bathe in your remains
yet, it still shivers
by even just the thought of cold
fearing that what once was gold
will all turn into mold
your veins
are all it yearns for
to it, time is so serene
too quiet to ignore
every blemish on your skin
every word once said
everything that happened since
every gesture, every breath
is one strand of hair
carefully sewn within
a body of despair
may 19th, 2025