My Room
7/16/2026
In my room,
the dead
are beautiful.
See how gently
they rest,
their faces
against the withered petals
of our spring.
Perhaps
they are dreaming
of all that lives.
Or aren’t they?
7/16/2026
In my room,
the dead
are beautiful.
See how gently
they rest,
their faces
against the withered petals
of our spring.
Perhaps
they are dreaming
of all that lives.
Or aren’t they?