The bees and butterflies already came
I've no more nectar,
For you to take

**** me
If you will
Go on
Take of me what's left

Ash,
Once carried on a lilac breeze

Smoke,
From a limply held cigarette
Burnt
To the filter

Me
A distant souls memory
Remaining on a winds
Left swirl

My resin fairy gave birth
Prose, Her name
Wingless *******
In my pocket

She and I
The same