wilting rose petals crushed
against mold covered stones
slowly pushed down to
the rich, black earth
by misting rains.
sinking beneath, buried
by bare feet spinning
on their heels, dancing
the old songless dances.
now, red-stained toes
twist themselves
in tall weeds –
walk on the water
of crystal streams.
an inky dye
permeates the water
like blood, rippling
out in circles.
and the river flows,
carrying within its belly
a crimson memory.
coursing through mountains
and your veins,
searching for the place
where hearts stop beating.
