Buckets of Red and Blue

Nestled between a beveled  
Glass cake display
And a vase of  
Seasonal flowers
 
Here lies my purple baby
An urn of dust  
Temporary ashes
Of what’s left
 
You’re laying  
A top a wearied  
Rattan of decorative doors
In a house
Without your memories
 
My baby love,
Eyes greenish yellowy blue
The red of your blood  
I’ve guessed  
Mixed with the auburny of your hair
That’s what I didn’t see
 
Is what I’ll hate  
The most
About you
 
Makes me think and feel for you
My prince
My son
I love you.