i. (paper) flowers

I grew paper flowers when you were gone. They fell from the trees in a myriad of colours, redandblueandorangeandgreen and every last thing in-between. They fell in every colour you could see, and even some of the ones you couldn't. There is one in my heart and one in my hand. They are in each of our hearts and each of our hands as they spread their wings to find you. But sometimes I sit and wonder if they'll ever accomplish that.

I grew these beautiful paper flowers in a fertile land, but where once was hope now is ruins.

.

ii. (paper) sailboats

Remember, when we were little? We would dance and dance on the shores of the sea until our legs couldn't hold us anymore.

(we danced in paper sailboats, on the sand.)

Remember how our hearts beatbeatbeat and the sunset flared through the land, reflecting in oh, so many colours on the surface of the sea?

But our sailboat was leaking paperthin and you slipped right through and sank.

you sank down, down,

.d

.,.,o

.,.,.,.,w

.,.,.,.,.,.,n

And so I moored our boat with a heavy heart and a heavy hand. Our paper sailboat lay abandoned, bobbing by the pier. Then I gathered that sunsetflare and wove it into my hair and into my being.

it was

a glimpse of you,

i suppose.

I'll set sail, you know, with the coming tide. I'll set sail in that paper sailboat we made, dancinganddancingandtwirlingandtwirling, that boat with room for two.

And look. I guess I saved the second seat for you.

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iii. (paper) butterflies

One of these days, I want to ride the wind again. I'd like to pretend none of this had ever happened. I want to laugh at the gods like we used to, in our youth.

(i'd like to chase the paper butterflies)

Maybe we'll find each other again and we won't have to deal with the wars, even if it denies our nature– the very fibres of our existence. I'll show you a place where you can stand with me and chase the wind.

I created you a thousand paper flowers, each with a whispered wish of something. Each with that whispered wish that maybe, someday, you'll come back to me.

And now— (we'll chase the paper butterflies and laugh at God, while the wind dances through our hair whispering wishes in our from those darker days of paper flowers. Of darker days when you weren't here and when I wished you'd come back to me.) —forever waits.

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iv. (paper) crane

(i can't fly)

Off-white summer times
Afloat upon
The leaf-strewn breathing of the stars
You creased their last into her eyes

With your sweetened hands
Sticky with needle kisses
Of superficial expertise
Folded fading autumn's feathers
Into insubstantial ringlets
On the hidden cherub's cheeks
A fragile canopy of flight

You gave her wings
Then flew away...
You never taught her how.

.

fin

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huzzah for vacuity. obviously, a highly experimental fic, so please pardon the weirdness of it all.