Written by Tabalith
Art by Koolshooters


I gave you nineteen flowers
And ate the eighth one
So you will be forced to crawl
Down to me

You’ll fish for the flower;
I’ll have already absorbed it,
Fearing you’ll vanish
Once you find the last petals

I see my own funeral
And I am utterly bored –
No one has come to see me

My hands rest awkwardly
On my open-cut chest

Invitations sent back
Without having been read

Why should death differ in
Any way from life?

One moon has passed

Pollen crawl over my lips

The eighth flower is still
Mine and only mine
Because you didn’t come

You never counted
The flowers