little blue flowers

the last wanderer

i've tasted happiness
the joy, the bright spectacle
that blooms beneath my eyelids

i've tasted an existence i want to own
from color to swelling laughter
that rings in my ears
and every sunset that blurs
within the beat of a bird's wing

i've tasted sadness
and held on for as long as possible
clinging to shadow and shade
ice-lipped phantoms worn down

i've been to every corner of this room
and left a mark on the walls
a scritch of pen or stroke of paint
i've been waiting
for the rest to present itself.

i've tasted the end of the world
and every beginning
that comes
after.