Yard Sale of Thoughts

I press my lips to you.
Steal the beauty of your
bloom;
inhale the fragrance
of limp petals
remembering when
they bounced beneath
my touch.

Sipping power from your
decay, toxins release above
steamy, swirling remains.

I softly swallow;
I can taste your delicateness,
as I feast on a fatal remedy.

I plucked you without shame;
tied and dried you
in upside-down darkness.

I steeped you in an unmarked
grave;
distilled your essence,
captured your cremated
charm,
consumed your name;
you were just too beautiful
to die in vain.

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The benefits of Lily Tea