as the squares charred,
lying to my eyes that their
matter was disintegrating, salted
droplets eroded streams of
regret that deepened my dusk
and dulled my blaze.

but it’s somewhat amusing
isn’t it, that my own fleshy
urn holds no shape as
symmetrically sound as the squares
that charred and lied.

call out my name; let my ashes be the
penultimate vibrations that echo as
the squares squares squares grasped twigs
and tufts of amphibological
debris, beckoning my
eyes to glow ablaze.

while the wisps of smoke
escape the dancing radiance that
crackled and
cackled as the memories i was
too burnt out to memorize
decomposed knowingly, deceiving my
orbs that will
indeed always forget the
silently sleeping squares.