Flowers On Stone
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I leave this on your grave
for I thought:
Why?
For you had left so suddenly
No sign, no message, without so much as a word;
Silent as the night we met
Silent; without your lighthouse of a voice
I am lost.
Was I not enough?
I gave you what I could;
I would never leave you
I was happy, if you could call it that,
with you, with us;
why weren’t you?

I leave this on your grave
for I thought:
I'm sorry.
For what I gave wasn't all that I could;
for the gazes on the floor as you walked away
while I turned my back;
for the tears in the night
after I had left.
I was terrible, blind,
and I left myself in a darkness
as black as the night we met
while you left,
too.

I leave this on your grave
for I thought:
Thank you.
For on the night we met,
you took my hand,
icy as death,
and led me away.
And now I only wish I can join you
and I only wish I could meet you again
in the dark, silent cold.
But would you look at me,
eyes navy blue and disappointed?
Would you send me away, then leave again?

I leave this on your grave
as the sun rises.

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