I wilted, like that pink rose
In the vase on my glass-topped table.
Bloomed, fragranced, and adorned
Etched in my memory... forever.
The moments when I was alive
Appear a distant past; gone
Now weakly twinkling specs
On a wide moonless sky.
Save me in between the leaves
Of a yellowing tome
Which you may open someday
And deeply breathe me in.
My pink faded, withered
My velvet still waiting for your lips.
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