Bones

Uncertain lines wrapped with sanguine

Naive monochromes of gray scale

Veils of shadows concealed our own ghost

Aforementioned, ‘twas contemporary feeling of grief.

Aroma of desiccated chloroplasts, of dark chitins of dust.

Fingertips whispered on to something vanished.

Old friends had compelled around same old curves.

Got drenched in our whole tower of life

Leave pigments but not words unexpressed.

Down to our most fibrous bones

Counting price tag, better to have mislaid

Than never have loved at all.

Need walls of bamboo grasses to breathe like space from me

But couldn’t stretch the polysaccharides that I need.

Most defending ascospore, say what you mean to say.

For I won’t wait if you flee.