at your feet.

a bird in a cage
doesn't know what his wings can do

here,
everyone wears the same perfume
and when it rains you can smell the fumes,
like anywhere else.

In march I was unsure
but it seems obvious now
we were both
hurt

but pigments change with time
fragments of light fade
I was dead
when you were alive.

I dreamt you dusted the
freckles from my face
I woke up and with
red scars running up and down my
legs
isn't it true
you knew how to smooth my
skin?
and you knew me?
the way I moved when I was
swaying in the street

here,
you'll find me:
a sad lily
lying at your feet.