Melamine….

I fall down the stairs of melamine,
Slippery on the way down,
That broached of a feline capacity,
Something sticky, made if to fail,
It calls me by name sometimes,
And grabs my hands the other,
The fake, forged feeling of warmth,
I seek in the living that sometimes touch me,
My eyes close seldom,
For they wish that this was over,
A peace they want,
Not something described in words,
A feeling of dancing lilies on the forehead,
The slow breaths of your love,
What more can one desire,
The fall usually never leaves much to imagination……