when i die
i want to feel your breath on my face
the susurrus of morning breeze blowing over daylit meadow grass
the blink of your eyelash on my cheek
a butterfly's kiss
butterflies followed you everywhere
as the beetle followed me
but I am taken by death
as you are taken by sunshine
continue in the light
i hope i have given you something you can cherish
something you can use to spread your joy
i will decay shortly
remember
the beetle will bore my flesh
my blood will harden
a solid, coursing, irrevocable action
it smells like curry here. I hate these hotels.