Tears are the stars
That trail your skin
Like marks frostbitten
From forbidden kisses
Beauty is the mountain
Concealing the valley absent of rain
The twirling branches crisp and thin
Disintegrating from your touch
Skin peels from bone
White ash dusted to low-hanging clouds
The edges glistening, shining
From the strain to exist and be
Dry skin lifted around the edges
Of your nails, peeling from your lips
Crystalizes in sheets of mold
Pulsing on the shape of your muscles
The sickness blossoms yellow and blue
Sallow where the bud waits for youth
But the petals shrivel and die before they are born
In cacoons of water