Willows were blowing, the sun softly kissing my tender flesh. Long slender digits twirled around a single curl of my golden tresses. The winds blew the moment my mind drank in the thoughts of what if. A slow arch of my back, the blanket beneath as soft as the petals of a rose. Oh, how I loved those flowers. I remember the day they covered me in yellow blossoms as they lowered me into the earth. Drops of tears raining from the sky, the sounds of sorrow cried out in the winds. Please, I want to go home. What if.