On Decay Someday, the earth shall sink our bodies into her somber soil. Our expressions will still, slip and melt, iris eternally slept to the sounds above. Marigolds and mignonette will mingle in our eyesockets as their stems and seed speckle the surface. As the bubbles in our blood break, the lingering love will liquefy into the expanse of the lusting, fertile terrain. The cloth coating our flecked figures slowly frays and fragments, formerly protecting; Now naked and pure for the glossy mahogany and roses ringing our forms. The mauves, azures, and sepias will frolic from our fingertips into into the firmament. Bleeding and blooming at the break of dawn. Time tips and the trapping of our entombment softens and starts to rot, returning to the tranquil trance of the planet as a sparkling spring star.