The First Bouquet frog for those who walk where

for those who walk where the path fades

snatched from a velvet-lined box in a house already crumbling into dust

The Duchess lifts her cup instead of the paper

on your lips

cast aside like a mere memory

The First Bouquet frog for those who walk whereThe stems came home clenched in a small fist, held too tight to stay whole. Petals bent, some already falling, lengths uneven where theyd been pulled instead of cut. Elin kept talking as she held them out, words tripping over each other, pointing at the smallest blossoms as if they mattered most. Her mother took them carefully, not correcting anything. No sorting, no trimming back the damage. Just sitting together at the table, turning the little