Where Your Name is Written in the Sand, but Your Goodbye is on My Skin

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Joy. It was in the vibrancy of the colors on her skin; in the way the sun kisses the horizon
every day with love made of reds, greens, pinks, purples, oranges, and yellows
The process was strenuous–taking life onto a living canvas and keeping it art
with only the carving of needle pricks

It was the only reminder she could keep; the wild flora had long lost their scents and
the striking vividness of freedom would soon fade from the stilled birds’ feathers
The only paradise with blue smiles and bronzed happiness that felt like sand
between her toes and white enthrallment

Someday she’d return to finger-traces and salt air
for more than her Birds of Paradise for company

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