"I killed a flower for you, the other day
it was a magnolia
and its only crime was its beauty"
I say to her as I put the flowers on the bed of her grave

"and it got me wondering if beauty was the reason you got plucked so early in the seasons
did the gods fear the summer would be too harsh for your delicate petals?
or the winter brutal on your roots?"

I pull a single dandelion that's peaking though the concrete...