I flaked off on you again,
Left a raw patch where I laid
And now I'm three shades too light,
And speckled
Of course, with dots of your blood.
I fell in love with the curvature
Of the double helix which made your DNA,
It took me too long to realize
That it made everything of me,
Funny how it works
When one leaves you,
They're everything you were,
Stolen bits here and there
And now I lay,
Under your bed.
The maggots should reach me first,
Cocaine colored petals,
Pure as the Virgin Mary in Miami,
But perhaps I will be forgotten
And turn to dust,
The color of Toronto snow.
YOU ARE READING
Stasis
PoetryStasis. 1. a period or state of inactivity or equilibrium. A collection of poetry written mid pandemic and mid depressive spell.
