Chromatopography

Lucidity whispered
enticing delicate wisps
into vacuous action;
protecting the cataclysmal gape
that pulsed
in want of a name.

Silent grave
where temptation wanted
waned, meandered a while
in Spring’s strength
and died all the same.

As fat raindrops
plopped, reincarnating
on green grass blades
drowning in their quest
to satisfy chlorophyll
fuelled cells,

I stood, wept, then danced.

For when death called,
in his grey wicken ash-
I wore red,
feet bare-mud encased,
your wintry kiss
on my lips.