Can you do anything with this?
Roses from the garden turning brown
curling their toesies, whispering.
“How much time do we have left?”
Surrendering to the stem
Memento Memori, eating the silk.
Each breath held in the bottle,
fading, but the thorns remain.
Dulled ”I miss yous” collect like dead skin
Every lost hair brushed in the wind
The glass cracks into wrinkles
Rainbows ending in its split reflection
Hopelessness grows with all our wishes







