peonies:

The wind through leaves reminds me,

of things I wanted to forget.

The ghost of you smiling,

a face from within the wood.

I could still make out your smile.

As your white dress flowed over the grass,

flowers bloomed in your wake.

Peonies were always your favorite.

The way your cheeks burned

when you spoke reminded me of the flowers,

that subtle pink.

All but gone from your face now.

No pink anymore just a red corsage

sitting at your wrists.

A wreath of petechiae around

your neck.

And that white,

all that white.

That dress flowing again and again

at the corner of memory, beautiful.

Just how I remembered you,

haunting me even still.