Before You Go

Never has it been my intention

to bring failure to your door

rather if I could I would pilfer a star

to glide through your finger

or have your pillow stuffed with angels

so to sleep beside your every desire,

but being who I am

inflamed by poetry and madness

I’m able only to bring you

the melting earth from my heaven

the lambent fabric from my dreams

that meekly dress your body

with the same poor colours

that sweeten funerals.