Green Thumb
By Phalanx
Puzzle pieces seem to be the skeleton key templates
For all the doors I see other passengers walking through.
Not so simple the noise of a burning canvas.
Oxygen and static is life leaving the picture.
I hope I smell like a forest when I'm burning
Touching your head with the grey flakes of all I am.
What will we call each other in transcendance?
I want to be remembered as jasmine in the rainy season.
I'll be the first corpse you ever saw sweat
Smelling like something you'd rather put on
Than wash off.
How do you compliment decay?
I can't help but wonder why they leave flowers.
Clouds burst and we only see the brightest colors
For a moment.
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Copyright 2014 Phalanx
Published on Monday, June 2, 2014.
Filed under:
"Poetry"