It must be hard to be almost dead
when the only thing sassy and sumptuous
is vanishing faster than you can breathe.
Tomorrow grows vacuous and absurd.
Violet memories slather your vision
with short vibrant breaths—
single moments that shine in your life.
A spread of final. vivacious. splashes.
A cheek on the top of your head—
your grand finale.
Desperation grows pointless under death’s auspicious power.
Brenda Warren 2013
I love you such my boy.