I lost a friend

I gave you my heart

In the form of my words

Without thinking twice of

The palms on your hands

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You collected them all,

A gardener in spring

and my bones they abscised;

Into remnants of you

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We grew for each other

You stared and you tended

We swam in your river

One hand in in the other

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July was the wettest

Drops filled my vessels

I knew you would drown me

Your breath in my lungs

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Your skin on my body

Again this September

Thorns grew on my surface

Blood on your hands

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