His knife slowly went through the corners,
as he carefully carved broken crayons...

I left my dresser-drawer slightly open,
for your spirit to slip and escape this...

She roamed the
universe like she owned...

I pressed the last red
flower you gave me, in a...

You roots run deep,
yet the soil is soft...

....and I was wrong.
this pocket feels heavy...

The roaring went on,
as your scribbling drafted...

There was no fog
just shades of gray...

***
My daunted soul palpitates in a coral horizon...