Dead from us

We do not know it when we lie dead in the grass .A spring breeze would gently play with our hair. And the other people do not know that they are dead from us although they are alive, up and about on their feet.

The fly on our flowers is perhaps alive on us when it would buzz about us as if we are alive when our ears are now bright yellow marigolds.The fly is blissfully unaware that it is dead from us.

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