#53

i am sorry for dying - 
the way the orchid petal limps and clings - 
refusing to drop.
i found all the merchandise a heartbreak - 
the way i said i love you with a boxful 
and ribbon -
as if even a portion of my reverence
could be contained.
when time steals you away from me - 
because you are growing
and learning to love things outside of Us - 
i wonder at having had once
my own dreams - 
before i cared more about an elusive collective
and following your youth
 into the night.

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