Buried beneath the fields of marigolds Lies the love we left behind. The earth has settled over it now, Soft and golden, as though it never died. We don’t speak anymore. No letters. No apologies. Just silence growing wild between us, A garden neither of us tends. Still, I visit the grav

Weightless You loved me like a feather caught in a storm— light enough to make me believe I could fly, careless enough to let me fall. You held my hand and called the darkness home. Somehow, your fire felt warm enough that I mistook the smoke for air. There were nights when your