Yorke

Flower Day

The joy of a child,
running through a churchyard.
The laughter of children,
echoes from the gravestones.

A figurehead in porcelain,
set in a volcanic necklace.
A queen,
a goddess,
an angel.

You disappear with the fragments of my mind,
they can not hold you forever.

Were your name not etched in stone,
i would surely forget you.


To remember you is to render myself void.