constellation

i so wanted
to be connected to you

to trace the paths of stars
on your skin

i can still see how your eyes
were darker than the ocean

and reflected more
than i had ever seen

i so wanted
to lose myself in you

otherworldly

i hold a galaxy in my hands
it overflows
and spills stars like tears
between my shaking fingers
i squeeze too tight
it runs down my arms
soon nothing is left
but my empty palms

delicate

i know you like to take shallow soapy baths
filled with whole flowers you picked from the garden
petals spread out like fireworks and stick to your silk skin
you like it when i sit on the tiled floor next to you
sometimes you sing quiet love songs to me
my clothes get wet when you reach a thin arm over the tub
to smooth over my cheek and smile
our bathroom is pure white
but the afternoon sun washes everything in pale yellow
it feels like home
your hair only damp at the bottom
curl so beautifully around your soft eyes
pink lips like a bow curve at me
and you glow

my dear flora

your lips are roses
but only the thorns
and when i tried to kiss you
my flesh was ripped away

though i lay bleeding
i grabbed your wrist still

i would place my mouth on yours
despite my fresh blood
a million times more
so that once i may feel
the soft petals of your love

I once drank wine that tasted of you

dressed up like a hideous doll
a pristine black suit so crisp and new i thought it might snap my sternum
i am to sit still in the chair
the table moves and shakes
there must be laughter but what i hear is simply the beating of a dozen hearts
my only connection is a scattering of confetti through a wine glass
i do not speak
my joints are stiff as my starched shirt
what food lies beneath my gaze
on such a pretty plate trimmed in gold
makes me sick
i yearn for acknowledgement
only to be looked upon as if
i was part of the table's grand centerpiece
the whites and soft pinks of flowers
could just as easily be pierced through my skin
to mix with my tired blood
and create an array of colours so dazzling
as to compliment the crystal chandeliers
i do my duty as second to centerpiece
and my hands so neatly in my lap
though fingernails mark my palms