love is the last supper to my bones, festooned with uncanny cataclysm and silver lining of misery. beds, rooms, living area everything empty. once a family, now in just memories. those claws that get me wildflowers, fins and pearls, paws get me signs of first rain - first snow, wings with maples and songs of my cinnamon roll, all left me alone.
settling down after a short panic attack, / not paws or claws to hold me tight /
trapped midst unknown syllables, / no fins surround me anymore /
not any receptor accepts my proposal of speech, as my vocal cords do the bare minimum, / as my lovebird would make me speak, left me /
I lift up the wildflowers, crushing and pouring ink to write. trembling hands, write those names, as at the end of every name of my sweet pet, comes a tear.
as antiscians visit me for every eclipse, clutching onto my gown as good old days, just as lightning strikes on my window pane and snowstorm goes calm, they leave. as this short visit of my beloved by noctiphany, helps me stall my last breath.
to meet them on the other side, I wish, memories last long, thence, I thought that love would last for ever, I was wrong.