These pieces of joy

These pieces of joy Fall to the earth in tiny, broken, fragmented Flashes of moments, Raindrops of life, I try to pool them in the palms of my hand, Catch enough to drink, To bathe, To get drunk off of happiness, But they slip, evaporate, run through My lips, tasting salt On all the wounds, Open mouths, Insatiable dark pits. And these falling stars, Alive, for a moment, Never fill this well Of ache. I peel back layers of skin, Let the flood in, But each layer burns, And with each one I diminish, feverish and freezing. The realisation that there is no shore, I’ve drifted off too far. This rain is the last sound of life, There’s nowhere to be buried Except inbetween the drops of hope. This is the last of the storm, Each memory was worth a sun and a kiss, And it’s over. The last precipitation, The final punctuation, At least I danced under the sky, At least once. So, Take me then. I’m ready to drown.