my love had promised me flowers, so he kissed the rosebuds over my eyelids before darkness took over and he was gone, a mere creation of the figs in my mind, burried too deep in the hollowness of my murky bones for me to reach.
but the sun still rose awoke, the moon never dimmed from it's luminous self, and i learnt to make the rosebuds on my eyelids bloom.
[the sakura petals had wilted. they were now only rottenly rosette.]
