Please be kind to me,
for I wilt fastly and sure,
for I haven’t a devilry,
to lean upon, as a shoulder.

If you are a captor,
leave me wading into waves.
Leave me to fade, thin paper
with words into pond green.

Trust nothing that I say,
unless I tell you to,
unless my hair is grown long,
unless you loved me once.

I have no kingdom,
nomadic and acrostic,
a papyrus best left;
I have no god, save skies.

Please, you can not wait for me.
You can not sway
as grass in the breeze;
you are dying.

Be kind to me. Rose’s blood
I shiver, wracked by the sun.
Rocked by the tidal,
I haven’t heart to give. Be undone.