flowers

i plant flowers

for you

carefully, gently,

i pour into them

my memories of our time together:

red roses, for the feelings we bore

carnations, for my adoration for you

austrian roses, for you are all that is lovely,

and i oft found myself lost in your beauty.

your gentle hands

tended to the garden of our love

and now my own hands

tend to this garden of flowers.

each flower speaks your name,

as i tell them to when i plant them.

i let them grow beautiful and bright

let them feel the warmth of the sun

and when my garden is completely grown,

i let them

die.

i plant flowers

for you

all so that

they can wilt

the way that i wilted because of you.

indeed, your gentle hands

tended to our garden --

but were you just too clumsy?

i suppose our flowers were

too fragile

for you.

so now i plant my flowers

with my own clumsy hands

and i tell them,

“when you die,

cry out this name.”

so you will know

that it’s all your fault.