I
I arrived in Marseille with memory and the Mediterranean glistening
I saw a gold castle standing far off on a hill
the hospital where you left this earth lay somewhere in the heap of buildings
II
As a highschooler I planned a film inspired by your work in my head
I don't remember it all, but it would involve a field of wheat
and probably a mother in a black dress
your technicolor dreams and your pale face
III
Bohemia is the agreed-upon place
for imagining a free + wild beauty
At some point I thought, "I don't want anyone to feel the way I do"
and I wonder if that thought is wrong,
if I'm wrong about the way I've started to view this life,
if I should shine with a more grateful soul.
It's not right to be miserable
but the truth is I do feel pain.
IV
Your biographer said something happened when you were 17
and after that you could never accept life as it was again.
At the end of your life, you suffered.
You sang songs to your sister and strummed an instrument.
They were still there, sunrises,
herbs, gardens,
the far reach of your radiant life.
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