the blue petals have dried—but i keep them in its vase

to remind me of when you were near me

strings of a violin play in my mind

that melancholic sound of sweet memory

i yearn for you

just to hold me again

feel the touch of your skin

and all its lost moments

like when we looked up at the clouds

your hand entangled in mine

now illusions of images

that have passed in time

though i water the dried petals

keep them under the sun

with hope that its light

will salvage what is gone

remembering that what is

will someday only be

like the dried blue petals

that are staring at me