I place in his hands with the gentle ease I’ve summoned,

Remnants of flowers.

Dead and dry. Brittle yet fragrant.

Unable to allow words to tumble from my lips,

my eyes explode with a desperate desire for understanding.

I break out in sweat. Air leaves my lungs in a galloping rhythm.

“This. Is important.”

My shadow grows so dark it inks the wall. Frozen, it depicts my outstretched hands in a cradle.

I push all of my weight into him until my heart is beside his heart. Raw. Constantly dripping life.

“This. Is important.”

Pieces of flowers drift from his grasp- becoming lost in the air like so many souls of the past.

He doesn’t understand it is important.