An obstinate yearning

Yearning picks at bruises

slow slender movements

scars on each petal, my

memory, still fragile and

recovering an en bloc

extraction of my innards

 

Self medication heals

clumsily, it tranquilizes

breaks news, hovering

as petals fall like corpses

into their last piles, breath

devoured by a crass earth

 

Balms permeate a calm

wrapping into habitation

slowly, a formalization of

mourning, petals in bowls

of silence, measure loss

more adequately than pills

 

Sorrow has a nutty obstinacy

a fullness that evades tears

but brings a strange warmth

to the stillness of presence

and a nagging, ache that

whispers of being undead

 

®️©️kashiana