Flowers

My skin,

my bones

are crumbling.

 

My remains

are

becoming dust.

 

And from my

decomposing

self,

 

I hope that

your flowers

will grow,

 

So that I will be

the source of

your joy,

 

Even if I

cannot witness

it myself.

 

Darling, 

that is how much

I love you.

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