Excerpt from "Honey"

I watched you dress in black once more, but only because she dressed in white. I listened as you repeated a vow you once proclaimed to me. You married her in the same yard where you buried me. I swear I could feel your happiness vibrating through the ground. Now that I’m buried, I’ll make the flowers grow below your feet. Imagine me under the ground, waiting all winter for you to bring the sun back. You’ll tread over my grave and up I’ll push the stems until you marvel at the brightness of my shining bulbs. You’ll pluck them from the ground and take them to her.