I promise to be perfect
for that's who you are,
the apple of my eye,
only one in my mind.

I promise to love you
again, like how roses bloom
at the touch of your
bittersweet breath.

But if the thorns of
your roses leave me
bleeding again,
I promise to be more perfect
in my next
next life.

                                              A cherry blossom that
                                              blooms
                                              on your sight and
                                              falls
                                              at your breath.

I promise.

In my next
next life.