dew on the pansies

you are my favorite cliche

death calls me

to her gentle embrace

but i’m not picking up —

leave a message after the tone

i have come too far for this

stitched patchwork recoveries

in clashing color schemes

and traced over the seams

i have destroyed and built

myself back up again

risen from a well

of rain and saltwater

to cruel blue skies

demanding spoon-fed lies

from prisoners of the shade

i have wandered the streets

of a ghost town

aimlessly remapped

the blueprint of my blood flow

overlapped old and new

wired it to the new highways

i traverse with tired soles

i have struggled to connect

half-finished metaphors

tumbling unimpressively

out of my mouth

dripping like dew on the pansies —

now pollen’s dusting

the back of my throat — itching

at the back of my brain

i see color again

the shapes newly dull

and bloodless

the world is turning

soundlessly moving on

you set fire to gasoline

pools in my heart

enraged my spirit into living

i see you again

suddenly budding

emerging from hibernation

ending amaranthine winter

you burst from behind my teeth

onto the page — restless

unable to sequester sweetness

i wouldn’t worry dear

you will always come

back to me in the end