The floor is warm. My foot is warmer, not only from the heat I create, but from what you’ve given me. Your body was made of two hundred and six bones, strong, shapely, framing your beautiful form; it was made of organs, of blood, of constant activity, of life. I pressed my foot down on its entirety, covering your arms, your legs, all of you with the ball of my foot like a quill seeking to write. I broke the seal of your body and you gave me perfect ink. Thank you for that gift.
I wrote with it on my floor, and I will never forget that message. I will never erase it. I will let you seep deep into the fiber of my home, and I will always think of you, my handsome stain, my worthy stain, my good stain. I feel you on my sole, penetrating me, being with me, never leaving me alone. I will never leave you either. I will write for you, sing for you, love for you… the same way you wrote for me with you, and you sang for me with a single, delicate pop.
My love for you goes on, and my memory of you does not weaken. I look down, all the way down, and feel so much! I swirl my foot and see your lines grow, the rainbow of your whites, pinks, and reds on the sky of my floor an invitation to wish for this moment to go on forever, to never end… and the joy I feel in knowing it will not. My beautiful, worthy, good stain.