I lie awake
upon a bed
of petals,
white and
creased with
every movement.
No longer infused
with velvet
speeches crinkling
over lasting
lullabies,
Mahogany tints
catch brown irises
nestling among
opulent flowers,
Clasping pain
in mournful beauty
crystal clear yet
overlooked,
Seeping through
a river of vision
etching dire scripts
in cold and muted
vocals.