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is this death?

start walking toward her.

ground beneath feet soft.

like walking on clouds.

flowers everywhere.

white flowers scattered across silver nothing.

moon flowers.

growing wild.

beautiful.

like her.

bend down.

pick one.

stem comes away easy in my hand.

another.

another.

gathering them as I walk.

careful not to crush the delicate petals.

don't know why.

just feels right.

feels like something I should do.

something I want to do.

by the time I reach her, arms are full of them.

white blooms spilling over normal hands.

hands that can hold gentle things.

hands that won't tear or break.

kneel beside her.

"Cosima?"

mouth moves.

know it does.

feel it.