Edwin
-
12:14:40 am on March 26, 2008 | # |

The floor was a pool of tears.
The crimson liquid
of sticky water from my eyes
seeped into the deepest
pigments of my
skin
Then,
roots sprouted
from my soles,
my arms crawled
as vines.
Now,
every night you leave
I collide with the wind,
and bleed.
My sweetest
scent yields
from my
wounded petals.
The moon
watches over me
as I
diffuse my fragrance
to the air.
Come back
with the moonlight tonight
and feel
the joy of my sorrow.


