musical decay

There was a hue to your lovely eyes this morning

They were tinted a certain color

Not red, not pink, but somewhere in-between

I asked if you got any sleep

You said no what's sleep

And then you did something so very interesting

You started giggling

You looked at me with such decay 

It was so rewarding

A hushed cadence drawing curtains,

Right there

In front of my eyes you became

A player of water

Pulling the lute from out the blue

You made a frequencies of drops from strings

You became a minstrel and made me a king

With a titled head and fiddling fingers,

You tapped your feet into a circle of fifths

And said you're dying

But your fins made so many sheets,

They served you as wings

My friend, you were actually flying 

So up you went with drips and drops

Your water-quills writing this body into nobility,

And leaving me soaking.