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

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