Porcelain Flowers 
With painted on petals.
Yester years memories
Broken
Chipped and cracked,
Wilted leaves,
Blooms without any fragrance.
Except in the hearts of those who placed them carefully upon the tomb of their loved one.
Leaning against his Peugeot he looks at me strangely…
They’re broken you know, not a good one in the lot! You know what they are…don’t you? For dead people! Disgusting isn’t it! That is why I threw them aside. Don’t want bad karma here! You want to buy them? What for, none of them are good condition!?
Gathered the flowers
I did.
Brought them home. Love never dies. May they bloom in the garden of Eden. Death doesn’t mean an end. 
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