meet me there.
over the horizon,
where the line between the sky and mountains
ceases to exist.
where my canvas remains bare
and blindingly white.
yearning
yearning
to be painted.

splatter me with hues of colours,
then leave me
leave me unfinished.

so i dissolve
my very essence
pooling at my feet.
now a murky shade of brown
i seep to the ground
and lay there.

but a tiny flower blooms in my wake.
nothing but a fragment of what once thrived.