Lotus

I have wiped the brush all over your beautiful face.
It was red, red with anxious.
I dotted a crimson line between the inferior of your ribcage, and your sanity.
And then it ran, ran to the middle of your shoreline arms.
It was yellow, yellow with tenderness. Your padma heart, and icy soul brought my patience to the floor.
I was not a human being at all.
Your marble eyes gazed upon the starry night.
"What am I doing? What if I'm dead?"
The violet paste dripped to the end of your foot, your root.
The elegance of a lean inked man. The closure of his beating heart, and glassy lungs.
Consider themselves lucky for seeing you.
The stem grows from your ground, pushing through your mortal body to your fulfilled head.
We are one, the universe is us, child.