If the world was a fair garden, I would have grown up nourished by your laughs.
I thought of you as my warden, and of me as the rosebud flourishing thanks to your heart.
Had the sun always been that dull? Had the wind always been that cold?
You were in fact an equal, with petals as ephemeral as mines and a scent that dissolved into the air until nothing remained.
With nothing next to me but your very absence, I’m condemned to wilt in my tears.
Me, that had been offered a longer existence, in a garden now empty of your colors.
Again, I thought of you.















