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.