I found your bracelet in my underwear drawer.
I put it there because I wanted it to be surrounded by delicate things,
And it reminded me of the way you pushed back that blue hair
With one fell swoop.
It reminded me of the gentle way you'd wrap me
In your arms and whisper in my cold ears,
"You're my best friend."
It reminded me of the way you so softly laid in that tub,
Porcelain skin shining and glassy doll eyes.
You were delicate.
Like the way those soft pin ****** lined your fleshy skin
I wanted what was left of your delicacy,
To be surrounded by beauty.
Because beauty is only found in pictures now
And delicacy is only how you live inside my chest.

I cannot say that I fell
skyward into the blacks of your eyes
after your crescent moon smile
washed out the ground beneath me.

No, I leapt.

Red lipstick–
The door ajar
to your sensuality
well concealed
behind your cold
–humility

She sews her wounds with silver thread
Not all storm clouds bear silver linings, you were mislead
Silver scars shimmer in the sun
Beautiful reminders of the battles that she's won

on the canvas
i drew her
across, around
within, without
in all colour and shade
of great cities
and their country.

her eyes as London
and the cheeks as Tanzania;
her palms as Athens
and the shoulders all
Himalaya -

every bone or edge in
wonderful chromatic.

the canvas changed and bled,
as did i but
by year’s end, the mosaic,
worldly woman was now
rested there in full.

stood in blank
dark
mossy room
covered in art and age
i called upon her name

but alas
i could no longer remember.

I love reading your books
but cannot anymore.
I burst into tears
each time I open that door,
the one that leads into
the library of your heart.