She did not come to be erased
by an invisible thief
no
a man who writes of love in pencil
as roses standing behind
a blue fence posturing exuberance
She stands
on the far side of longing
where dreams simply don’t translate
and are impossible
to heal on short notice
She wants to be remembered
laughing
with music
that has already escaped
She didn’t ask to be born
and now she doesn’t want to die
Leaves drift like snow
slower than the rain that drives
and disconnects them
She stands with her soul in transit
cradled in her arms like a refugee
and the terrible temptation to destroy
herself
so nobody and nothing
gets to do it first
A crimson rose speaks to her
Why would you want to own me?
and she is grateful
for a day without poison