Shroud
And as my final act of love,
I would forgive myself,
Give myself the freedom we never had.
I will let our tulips wither, and let the ferns bloom in time.
Color my slate-grey skin pink, for silver offers no solace, its poison veiled in guile.
I will be the blue we dreamt to sink into.
And you will be the amber sun that burns.
And as the skyline kindles and the sky grows crowded with clouds,
I will meet you at the horizon, hidden in a shroud.
Dried love, my eyes still searching for your face,
my tongue stiff, still trying to pronounce your name.
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