Straight line, barricade
on a path your eyes create
with enough to freeze for,
with blankets of flesh
becoming raw before
the moment of your death.
Place love to the skies.
Hold that smile, cover your cries
with the curtain around my form.
In love, without being born,
because God was a smile too many
to have, within grains of plenty.
Soil stretches, along with these
arms to hold you, while your leaves
drop infinite dew.
Take to flight, far from me,
out of sight.
Curve those clouds.
Take tears apart from the storms
with winter, never being born.
I trapped you, embraced you in a heart
that could not depart
with those dewed leaves against you.
I filled you, carved you out
of what discarded you
that I might undo you.