“You used to say “a teaspoon of lavender keeps the moon at bay”,
whilst shoving wisteria leaves in your pockets.
Fingertips swirled, embroidering cosmic patterns onto my velveteen flesh and
Your scent has long since seeped into my linen sheets.
Searing my throat was a honeyed trail of your ashtray cinders,
I wanted to nest inside the cage of your ivory ribs.
You hung my pale bones out to dry on crystal chandeliers,
The dust of my decaying dreams sprinkled atop your eyelashes.”