You know
I’m still afraid of crowded places—  
My steps,  
Echoes,  
On the staircase,  
Past all those faces,  
But I couldn’t find yours.  

Bunny rabbits,  
I name after you,  
Visit in the summer.  

I should've found you,  

I dreamt of you again,
Sitting by the window,  
Reading newspapers, drinking coffee.  
My red dress, my broken heart,  
The end of a moment—  
Sunny skies, as bright as your eyes.  
I miss your laughter on the phone.  

You know,
I’m still scared of needles,  
But I loved your tattoos and piercings—  

It's a heavy heart,  
Hard to carry,  
Hard to bear these days.  

You baked bread inside of war,  
And somehow, it always tasted like home.  

Your drawings, my office—
Sunflowers and sunshine,  
As if secrets were shared with honeybees,  
Revealing:
How to grow in the dark,  
How to find better days.  

The card you made,  
Ripped to pieces, taped back together—  
All that’s left are shades of gray.  

When the wind rises,  
Do dandelions carry the soul?  

In February—  
When I sit and whisper affections  
To graves,  
I watch them grow.  

Someday,  
When the wind rises,  
Will dandelions carry my soul to you?