the slow art of breathing bitter

Blood and Burn

I feel you in this smoldering fever sweat.

I see our days turning pale blue

on silver nights.

I dream of our happy ending

lit by birthday candles and confetti.

I sew stars and hang them on my ceiling,

and stare at them all the night

'til I grow tired and fall asleep.

That was just a dream, honey.

We're only growing older

and fading away in the starlight.

Our bones are thinning out, and our flesh's

turning pale blue — enfolding our

soft earth in blood and burn.

A speck of moondust;

Another stroke of summer paint.

The last poetry slipped away like the last train

as the stars gathered at our funeral:

A carnival of blasphemy

under the rotten skin and burning limbs of star-crossed lovers.

We drown and drown in the cluster of stars

and color of heartaches on the unpainted sky.

——————————

A/N: Oh, the little star's too sad. Mind tapping its belly and making it happy again? Thanks! :)

Blood and Burn

©March 10, 2023, Sreeja Naskar.