At the age of eight you blew out your candles
At the age of eighteen you blew out your veins
At the age of twenty eight you blew out your brains

Johnnie was not much of a talker in fact at times not much of a walker

He seldom caused humor, but he has brought death

Dressing in scarlet and Tuscan sun colors

So neat and straightforward or so I thought

Underneath it all was a facade

Removing my clothes and stealing a kiss

I knew the risks, but yet, I allowed myself to taste

I yearn to swallow the amber nectar's spice

Tremulous stars on the raw moon, kissing the grief away
My absent lover ran toward the Northern lights
I begged him to stay, I will paint visions inside your head
Azure coils with bands of seafoam with orchid shine
I can inflame ,swirl and glisten
We can find the skyline and live upon the atoms
As my paint brush bristles faintly float away

Antique brain and, willow trees fenced inside my mind
Wearing my conscience like a cinder block around my neck
Speaking eloquently from a smashed mouth
Wandering through life's hallway, burning out the night

My lovers womb became chiseled with scorn
Beneath photographs and circle kisses
You had nestled another in
Under your sternum interlaced with valleys of cartilage, your ribs became a landscape
I had journeyed across your spine
Baptizing the hollows of your delirium, ending up with warm bruises
On sleepless nights when clouds where corpses, I held on
I had been your eyes when whiskey, would not allow you to see
Decomposing mentally, metastasized into my existence

Accomplished fingers stroking the strings
Vibrating the air, adjusting the stiffness
Ribs of willow securely placed between my knees
Enbowed and concaved
The amplification like ,embroidered words  
The flawless cello harmonious
As I grieve the instrument ,  I weep