You haven’t lasted me
In a deathbed hollow
I closed my hands on nothing
But a phantom emotion

These flowers in free fall
With their withered stems
Drank their last purpose
When I severed their heads

You slipped your noose around me
And choked the breath away
I writhed for seven hours
And broke the dawn with a gasp

You scattered motes to the ceiling
And rode the sun’s first light
Sever your black wings
Wither my heart