Holding, between two rough fingertips
The anticipation of dust, as sure as death
Long has been gone, your kiss from my lips
The last song before winter, your breath

They do not crumble, these delicate blooms Suspended between beauty and decay
How gently I cradle my love, exhumed
Charmed by these lilac hues in transparent greys

My flower exists, yet in a liminal space
Her melancholic petals muted, yet opalescent
An ethereal blend of vibrant colors and taste
Slowly fading more thin from the present

Powerful, this love embodies the unresolved
Forever on the edge of transformation
Powerless, I watch these petals of purgatory fall
Wrapped in a fog of ignorance and abnegation

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