for the day of the dead i went to old town it was the first time since that last time a man stood behind a newspaper stand with silky palm leaves threading them into flowers and hearts my heart spoke before my mind could remember and stifle the desire to buy one to give it to you i could see myself handing you this piece of beauty i thought... i knew you would have loved it i wanted to buy one for you but then reality and sadness with it welled up because i couldn't... ...it's the little things that hurt the most <|3