My love kissed her hand in the gardens,
She smiled in the most sincere way,
Always bumped into each other, pardons
Said, but I heard the words he didn’t say,
When they whispered under the new fruit tree,
And she smelled sweeter than the fruit’s
When he took her hand just to ignore me,
I knew I could not go where she went,
I knew that I could never match her face,
She was always beautiful, even in death,
Her elegant bones were concealed in lace,
She’s beautiful until there’s nothing left.
But she had to disappear, dust to dust,
With one match I watched her combust to rust.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.