This translucent body that lies on the floor.
That voluptuous death wish, invading your soul.
Those brown-stained bed sheets, bearing no return.
This dark lit rose that I lay upon her grave.
That last indigenous kiss forever trapped in Orca.
Those hazelnut-colored eyes, enmeshed in a loop of finite.
“Everything is alright,” you would whisper chilly into my ear.
This scrumptious funnel cake lies on the floor.
That wretched delight eating through the tile.
Those black insects, feast upon your sorrow.
This lark composes his song ever so gracefully.
That fast-paced beat drops ever so gracefully.
Those vibrant cheeks, blush never so gracefully.
At your funeral, I’d pay the token, “Everything Is Alright.”