Florescent

Dear flower girl what intrigues you about the fair? The way they dance? The goods they sell?

Dear flower girl do they know about your flame? Do they know that at the end of the night the birds, they sing just for you?

Remember, flower girl, the way the sun danced on your golden skin and the times when the wind brushed the warmth off. There in the times of new, where dusks were as close as dawn, where darkness didn’t hurt as much.

Wither not flower girl, even when you see death repeat itself around you. The blossom of you is a rarity. Steal every glimpse of light that finds your hand. Bottle the joy and store it in the sky. For every star that appears is a reason to smile.