Ashes to ashes. [My reply.]

your pocket full of flowers
disguises the scent of
malice, teasing secret hidden
places only known to the rest
of the playground
and me.
watch out, I can predict it this time:
the sun's getting hot and your skin's
burning- you'll go inside rather
than put on sunscreen.

such fallacy is a redundant, ugly path to take
but you do it well.
causing us to circle around each
other, falling rosy rings.
this only leaves us dizzy, left
behind from life changing events
and field trips.
for once, ashes don't seem so far
away from memory or the genie's lamp.


we tried it once, unsuccessfully-
finding common emotion or lack thereof.
anymore and we may just fall into dust.
this is our life story, thread
in kindergarten lies and playground
alliances. you cannot make me
the recessive; it's a trait I've fallen
into without your help.

this whirlwind moves towards
the end of it all


and suddenly,





we all fall down.