I want to touch your white, pointed petals
Before they burn.
Your flower flesh is much too soft
To kill me quick,
So let me caress your leaves
While they’re still green.
I wish my breath could keep them
But I know it kills you.
So I must keep you
We should take our final gasps
Share me these last days.
Let me carry your picture
In my weak heart.
I will take your sweet bouquet.
I will dig you up and hold you close.
I will wrap a silk bag around your roots.
To keep moist earth
Clutched between their knotty fingers
So they don’t dry like dead bones.
I will warm you in my arms,
Squeeze you with my trembling limbs,
And kiss you again and again and again.
Submitted at The Mag. The inspiration Tess offered is the image below. I also offered a little reading. My mom was a heavy smoker. My dad was a very light smoker. My brother is a a pretty heavy smoker. And myself, I'm a non smoker. So this is personal, but really an imagined point of view.