Each galaxy is home to someone, each star the sun of someone
Flowers cannot see their own beauty and heat rises
So all they feel is cold, cold
Dust is the bits of ourselves which gave up first
And is the sheen of mortality over all
Time gets time off when we close our eyes
And if we all did at once, it wouldn't have to exist
Petals are as fateful as coins in tender hands
But not near as faithful
And onions sweat tears
As their layers are laid bare