I keep with me br a dying rose br which sleeps beside me br on the pillow. br br Once alive it lies now in between br life and my pillow-side breathing br which doesn't allow it to expire br even though it should. br br It fell in a swift spiral br from your funeral pyre br and I plucked it up br as a sign br you gave br that we'd remain br for ever close; br forever in love. br br On the first night br it quivered from my breath br and I breathed more br and seemingly br that rose contained your soul br and was inspired nightly br to new life br from my warm expirations. br br They all think br I am grief-drowned br and will recover soon br but no br they don't understand. br br It is not the rose I keep br but the soul br within that sleeps br beside me br each night since. br br If spirits live, br and I am sure yours does, br mine reaches yours br in our sleeping rose. br br Nineteen br its clear br was too soon br for you to go; br br rather you take br refuge with me br each night br disguised as rose br until it truly comes time br for you to go. br br I pray each night br hoping that br it is not too soon br but when the time comes br there will be a flight br of two souls; br both rising quietly br in our sleep.