
The paper flowers on the windowsill died of thirst,
And I crumbled under my own raindrops every evening.
Ghouls danced on the metal roof until the red dawn.
The sun rose from the meadow,
And I forgot what I was grieving.Â
-Jackie

The paper flowers on the windowsill died of thirst,
And I crumbled under my own raindrops every evening.
Ghouls danced on the metal roof until the red dawn.
The sun rose from the meadow,
And I forgot what I was grieving.Â
-Jackie