-17- E minor to D

one.
blood red, like his
crimson tube of paint;
but now it paints him.

i could feel deep, sorrow blue
in my stomach.
it tasted like paint, like
water with dreams and soap,
creamy—
i think that must be
how colors taste.

two.
blood black, like the spots
on the moon.
her eyes looked like caverns,
dark and soulless and blind,
just glass.

she wore Death
on her cheeks and
Fright on her eyelids;
i guess no one told her
she was pretty on
her own.

three.
blood blue, like exhalation.
i wish someone would
tell her not to
mourn.

that final breath
was like
flying.