ive placed a flower in a soda bottle on my study table –
Enclosed in glass that promises
to contain and protect what’s left of a life.
Though i think we’re only killing it faster.
Is this what they mean when they say death is beautiful?
Don’t they see themselves choking at the neck of the bottle?
Im making this a habit – having a flower on my table. It reminds me to nurse the irony, to take note of fragility, to take note of the struggle in hiding that fragility.
The flower is dying but it still blooms.