Perfection

At the gates

of death

I was crying

from beauty.

I was crying

from perfection.

When the cold wind

hits m face,

I can justify

the tears.

The flowers

are offered

to the dead.

They dissipate

the smell

but they rot

easily.

The skin rots

easily.

It screams

from despair

at the threat

of time.

It screams

from perfection.