By Anna Starkey
bury me in fields of purple and pink.
let wildflowers grow from my body.
violet roots tangle with green veins,
soil fertilized by my decomposing corpse.
this is life after death.
in another life,
we meet at the field
and lay as long as we like.
boundaries between bodies blur
beneath pleiades’ dull glow.
seven sisters turned angels.
the star of bethlehem behind us,
though i’ve never felt this sacred.
divinity defined by her lips
but in this life,
i pray from my self prescribed grave.
god, can you still hear me six feet deep?
do flowers bloom from my tears?
it was you that brandished the shovel,
but it was i who asked you to.
let me die,
if you please.
i don’t care.
but if i must live,
let me live
in a lavender world.