i dread the day    with what we shared    shattered like frozen features,   disfigured and all alone withering,    is this how it actually ends?    delicately feathered and face woven with beauty,    these limbs are crumbling.    this is the again and the two dressed so innocently.   an empty palm and another back    and the numbness remains as an awkardness.    she swept away the floor,   transfixing the gravity that held me.   to stop the clotting and let whispers    tell secrets to the winds    that broke these wires    which carried me to the light of your skin.    soft sopen i said,    'these blossoms, my beloved, are dying. they are dying.'