I'll pluck these flowers,
Petal by petal.
I'll slowly remove them,
From all my stems.
Each I'll say goodbye.
Each a loss of Hi's.
One by one I'll piece a puzzle,
Out from my head and into the puddle.
Each piece from my memory.
Slowly I drift into reverie.
I'll never remember then,
those times with dents.
Until all is plucked,
then I'll be in bliss.
Yet here's a whisper,
"Au revoir, ami."