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.