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Confetti of Flesh
Would I rather go too slow,
Damp breath feeding the soil,
worms to grow, an
old mans toil.
For me the answer is clear;
Though not today and I hope not here –
To explode with love and feelings gold –
Not too young and not too old
Wise enough to see my growth
But not old enough to have outgrown
My sprit,
Fun,
this place called home
That’s how to die
A confetti of flesh ruptures the Sky.
Feeding the air, water and earth.
Why you ask do I care how I die –
My love, that is the whole reason -
We’re here
to ask why.
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