"Rococo"

Eyeshadows in my hand

Does I burn for you?

Does I burn with you

Eventually they were all gone

With inks and cinched snow

The pastis was yours for free

But there is no use for free

Snow melts in rivers in your hair

Mingle with daffodils in the air

In the locket there is nothing

You gave me another word for it

To relentlessly relent

But it was not a lent year

It must be very good year

As everyone had moved on to a new planet

Or new planetarium, the soiree, the souvenir

Oh the year and year

Rest assured, the eyeshadows are inedible

Even with lip stains

Avril, 2024*