I do not want you to fear.

Like the flower he gave me

of how he handed it to me
brighter than the color of my lips
on the day that the skies
are seemingly well-arranged just for two human beings;

of how I let it die
beneath the pages of the book
he once read as he found it
in the storage of my secrets;

of how it grew old in there
and perhaps made him wonder
why I keep it
and why I think it is always beautiful.

My dear,

we are set to grow and bloom
in our own wonderful seasons.
If we will bloom, then we will.
If we will fade, then we will fade.

I do not want you to fear
of the things that has not yet happened,
or take an air that suffocates
every lovely pieces of ou.

So just breathe that warm air
that cleanses your veins up to your soul.
Unfold on your perfect rise or dawn
and be what you are to be.