A frill in the head

A frill in the head
telling me how to die,
dressed in red
write my own elegy.

My blood a rose
blooming gloom.

A flickering moth
on my knee
reminding me

my body is just
a beautiful
convoy of bones.

Shipwrecked,
alone I am
in this purple battle.

My limbs clatter
my voice stutters
an eerie lullaby.

The mist’s hug
is so warm.

The moon is crying
for us all.