Death and Tulips

i

It was March when you died cold and grey the ground beneath my shattered palms grasped at the living breath

breathe breathe 

grasping to breathe I walk without you scratching the earth fingers searching for tulip bulbs 

they will flower soon 

ii

I woke up at 5am, wrote of death and tulips, then went back to sleep at 5.15am. You woke not long after, eyes wide and hungry. I held you in my mouth, gently. 

Your smile put death to shame.