If I had known - in just a week another bed would be empty
leaving behind nothing more than the 3 months indent and faint stench
and lavendar
wilting lavendar
piling the soggy paper petals on the side table of the faded armchair
looking out into the glowing endings
like a missed finale
filtering through the air as dust
as the light trickle of a small fountain-river
the hardest part with someone like that
someone whose soul evaporated over multiple long years but still surrounded them
through the framed pictures lining the cabinets staring down and the persistant flowers
someone whose soul watches upon themself
is that you don't know how long ago they truly died
someday I want to walk up that cliff
to see those two tui fly toward the sinking sun
while the recursive rippling reflections scatter more light
to have that small plot of land where those tui fought
where we left you
come tumbling into the sea
to disperse and see the world
just as you wished