sunflower field

we were in the field of sunflowers,

burned by the suns rays cascading down toward us

until the darkest of night,

when the winds grew more cold and violent.

in the 3am daze we were, 

as we gazed up upon the billions of stars shining down ancient light.

the night-time hum enveloped our ears, as the clouds did so the earth.

bugs crept and crawled over our limp bodies

as we touched hands ever so lightly, brushing flesh past flesh.

hands that were cold,

dead.

just as you were this lonesome night.

how i loved your distant body, 

under the moons crystal beams of light.

how i loved the way it illuminated the tips of the sunflowers.

all that remains were the sounds, 

the smells, 

the joy of sadness.

this is for you my one and only,

i will hold your hand tightly,

and glance at your porcelain face.

so delicate, 

so fragile.

this final embrace will remain part of my memory for you,

whilst the crickets sound, louder each second.

does this feel the same as it did before?

4 am.

the crunch of the dirt

shuffle of the sunflower stems

as i turn again,

to look at you.

damn.

i miss you.