Tell me how you saw me die…

I felt your light, I knew your sound.

Of joy and woe, of hope and fear, now in dreams their face appears. The boat that sailed along my shore, floats upon the sea no more.

Butterflies don’t have lips.
They kiss with their long dark eyelashes.

Thoughts disjointed, scattered, few.
Like leaves in wind, untethered flew.

Old man Cecil, the cat that never died;
he grew a little bit older, but never left my side.
His yellow fur turned white one day, 
and twisted different ways.
His scruffy mangled yellow face
had turned a lighter shade.

Goddess of Color, the Stars and Moon,
Glides her brush across her womb.
With scarlet red and hues of gold,
She calls her Orange, her first to hold.

There is a place where rivers flow,
My fertile chest, her flowers grow.
The taste of honey, sweet romance;
Carving valleys, our bodies dance.

Vivid petals bloom and trace,
colors dance, uniquely placed.
Swirls of vibrant hues surround;
whispered beauty, made no sound.

Violets bloomed across your skin, “They’re beautiful,” you said,
“Water them with wood and sin, break me like I’m bread.”