I dry the flowers in my room. You watch me hanging them with wide, watery eyes. You say that this used to be your favorite place in the world, when it wasn't so pollen-y. The flowers dry vividly, and I imagine it will be spring forever. I smile, and think how maybe the flowers will last longer than us, but when I look at you I know they won't.
YOU ARE READING
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Short Storyi fell in love with you like snow- soft and shining like leaves brought alive by autumn like rain, clinging to your skin like flower blossoms- severed from comfort for beauties sake i fell in love with you every day, i hope you love me to (comple...
