I will not buy dark flowers until the wake is announced.
I will sing bright songs and stoke the fire.
I will write stories in green and give them away
and my friends will read them to their friends.
I will paint the ceiling in pastel and neon and
we will spin beneath it late until we fall down laughing.
While watching for bitter torches in the long night
I will bake apples and scatter incense and magnesium
so that if the house should be burned down
it will shine and smell like cinnamon.
I will not obey in advance;
and I will not surrender my joy.