For the few days I knew of you,
you were the smell of blossoms in the air.
The promise of a tomorrow stretching beyond my own.
You were to be a fine man,
a strong woman.
A miracle where I had not thought to find one.

But life has not finished being cruel to me yet.

Now I carry an emptiness
a vastness of cold space stretching deep and wide
lifeless planets and cold suns
where once there was you.
I bleed and I cry,
and nothing changes.

I would give you a burial at sea,
burn a pyre,
plant a bed of roses over your grave;

but I have nothing to bury,
nothing to burn.
No way to say how much I loved you
in those few days.
No way to tell how much I wanted you,
how much I miss you now.