Sunset spills on the carpet, staining
still waters, hot lava overflowing;
forbidden flames leap, raging
desire, dancing across tempestuous seas.

Glitter slips, sliding
off the falling sun, descending through
uncertain space and time, ripping
through orange and pink tangled weeds.

Pixie dust, a warm blush and powder
sink slowly,
slowly,
to land, then fall off of me.

Stars fall, though never fully risen; a
new moon, painting an empty canvas and
awaiting a new start; a
new love for her, a heartbreak for me.

Bloody fingerprints and pink kisses, something
(supposedly)
so beautiful, gone
so awry.

Sunrise spills on the carpet, painting
bright nail polish and too-sweet, sickly pink,
cotton candy, almost
soft enough to wipe the tears and bandage the pain.

Sour punch and Kool-Aid stain
still waters, cover
ashes from a smothered flame.
Almost hide them enough to start a new day.