Flores de Mayo

The merry festive month of May
Brought me back
Dreams I dream no longer
And hopes I no longer consider

The scent of white gardenia
Filled my senses
With memories of you,
With you:
The bud came in this world
As green as the leaves
And blossomed
As white as snow,
As fragrant as a newly born,
The way you smell after a shower
Of my kisses, as the wind dries your hair
Sparklingly shiny as the petals of gardenia
That once more has drawn my mind
To wander to the memories of you

And me, and the yellow rose
Whose petals have a brush of orange
Or maybe a teardrop of red
Bloodstain from the heartache
Caused by losing you

And me, and the red carnation
Whose stalk was too weak
To hold on to the petals
Of fire and ice, one minute scaldingly hot
The next, cold as a corpse
Melting in the snow
Like you

Like me in this festive month of May
Frigid.
Still, passion burns in us

For we are the dew on the glass
Of ice cold water in the Louisiana summer
Clinging, holding on to one another
Even though slipping, evaporating
And continually evolving, into you

And me and the severely missed camellia
Droplets of rain dancing on the petals of gardenia
Sprinkle the hope of once again being with you

And me, and the flowers of May
(Y mi, y los flores de Mayo)