she left a marigold on her pillowtop before she left. it's as if she wanted to force me to watch something die. and as time added wilt to the fluffy petals, my hope that she would return withered in tow. until all at once i was left with a hardened stem. what once delivered sustenance now crumbles further with each visit. two pieces, three pieces, four. this is hardly the organism i remember. this is hardly what i built.
