once again
a piece of my flesh died
on a bed of moon dust
I made love to death
the ash remaining
on my lips forever
singing a lullaby
to hungry birds
and all I wanted
was to collect my tears
in the glass bottle
of your perfume
(First published in Qutub Minar Review, India)
More at http://www.agnieszkafilipek.com/.
Such a wistful work, thank you for sharing.
Thank you for your comment, Michelle.