You were just a breath I held and never let go,
but rather bled out as they severed

my jugular and let you spill;
warm, beautiful, visceral.

Endless. Everywhere.
Stains on the carpet they hid

with some dull rug, and in the air
that smells like death but

better than your cheap cologne
they doused me in to burn the body.

They threw the ashes to the wind
and they watched me

get torn apart
one last time.