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A/N: What can I say? Strange moods inspire strange things.Beware the frequent tense changes.
Summary: As simply defined as the title itself. Short her time may have been with him, but it made an eternity to forget. So he remembers. A Clerith poem.
Disclaimer: (insert ellipsis)
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Flower Girl
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The first I met you
Was a soft dream amidst chaos;
Gentle and calm and infinitely soothing
Till its end, where all dreams would
But shatter at the hands of reality.
How slumber begets such sweet memory
Only to destroy it as one wakes.
I remember
How the dust, not innocently disturbed
Soared into the sunless twilight, and fell
(For not even a feather could remain as such)
Like rain on that fated day.
Yes, it was a fated day
When I consented to that task.
What did a criminal's repute matter,
Had I not emerged
And missed that prized encounter?
For while fleeing the scene of my ill-wrought ventures
I had chanced a glance upon –
A budding bloom in a ravaged land
You were, I say no less.
As rare, as precious, were your ilk –
A glorious wreath of multi-hued petals
Held in your basket's cradle.
But only your visage, did I see.
Of their own accord, did my feet carry me
To the barren earth where you stood.
A chestnut braid, green eyes, pink dress;
That radiant smile on your lips –
And I knew, without knowing
That you were one unlike any other.
Flower Girl,
Had you known you had bought my heart then
When you asked that purchase of me?
Its delicate stem poised on delicate fingers
You handed your flowered gift to me –
Your life, your love, your memory
For a worthless gil in exchange.
If the payment was greater or lesser still
Would I cherish you as I do now?
"Oh, these? Do you like them? They're only a gil…?"
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The second I met you
Was yet another unwritten song –
Blank in its expanse of unseen notes
Rendering its slow prelude no more distinct
Than its stormy finale.
But music, alas, is so unappreciated
When bereft of your voice's sweet melody.
Blindfolded, I was then
By a drape of perfect black
Woven from threads of unconsciousness.
But light came, and undressed my eyes
So saw them, a bed of flowers.
Fortunately-placed, this flowerbed was
To break my untimely descent.
What other path would my life have traveled
Had I not landed here
And awoken to your calling?
For while falling endless feet to my alleged death
I had dreamt of a pink –
A new-sprang bloom in a downtown church
You were, I noted this round.
As welcoming, were the surrounding walls
That the wind's choir should so oft sojourn
To sing its euphony within.
But only your voice, did I hear.
And the words that tumbled from my lips
Were not those spoken in common courtesy
But rather, of curiosity's longing.
A worthless materia, a bargain, a chase;
They were there, the surprises of a journey –
For ours had just begun.
Flower Girl,
Had you known you would have my puppet's strings
When you sought refuge in my wan strength?
Your hand was warm against mine as we ran,
Calming my hammering heart.
Such blind trust you conveyed in your grasp
To a stranger you only twice met.
If I were no knight, and you, no damsel-in-distress,
Would I protect you as I failed, so many times?
"Say, Cloud. Have you ever been a bodyguard?"
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The third I met you
Was on that prearranged 'date'
(Your part of the aforementioned bargain).
A trying affair, it was, I confess
Be it not of my present interest then.
I apologize; my actions were ill contrived
For unromantic pursuits had consumed me.
In vivid detail, my mind recalls
Of the way you sat opposite me.
Hands folded petal-like in your lap,
You were a beacon against the cabin walls,
Even against the brilliant fireworks.
And a dazzling show, those fireworks made
At the close of that ridiculous drama.
What novel words would we have exchanged
Had I not played Alfred
And rescued Princess Rosa from doom's end?
For while slipping your hand that too innocent kiss
I had wished to be mine, a girl in pink –
A full-flowered bloom in a sky-cable lift
You were, else I had been deceived.
As oddly misplaced, was my current state
Defined by the lack of motion sickness
The stale air would have doubtlessly spurred.
But only your fragrance, did I breathe.
Impassively, the fool (that was I) stayed put
When you sat barely three feet away.
Oh, how the ends of your rose lips upturned
In such bittersweet futility –
For I had not the courage to reply
So both turned window-wards, in defeat.
Flower Girl,
Had you known you would leave me distraught
When you posed that simple request to me?
That glazed look of reminiscence in your eyes
You whispered six small, frail words –
But they sailed, unfelt, past my precarious mind
Awash with memories that weren't mine.
If I was more than a shadow of your past love
Would our bond have surpassed mere friends?
"Cloud… I want to meet you."
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The fourth I met you
Was truly a dream –
A patch of sleep's hazed tapestry.
Like honey, it was too sweet to be true
And like honey, too thick to transverse.
Thus such, in future, I would drink tea bitter
To save myself from this reminder.
A dappled green
Embroidered the edges of remembrance
In garlands of forested canopy.
But you were there, painting the woods' canvas
Still more grand, with mere dawn-pink inks.
Only, the dawn had not yet broken
When you left our company's midst.
What lost time together would I have salvaged
Had I not lost my sanity
And captured your hands ere departure?
For while searching the depths of that cursed temple
I had sensed ill to befall you, my Flower Girl –
A stagnant bloom in unreality's mist
You were, in fate I knew not to come.
As divinely bright, was the grove's ambience
Overflowing with intangible aromas
Of woods' colours reincarnate.
But only your light, did I savour.
As in all dreams, my actions were preset
Hence I watched you, immobile;
Your green eyes were squinted in a smile
That bore far too much assurance
To be real –
Then I realized what you had set out to do.
Flower Girl,
Had you known you would break my heart then
When you chased your foredoomed destiny?
Like soft patters of falling rain
Did your feet trot off into the distance
Which despite my desperate floundering
Eluded me, my soul's wretched cry.
If I had managed to hold you back
Would our journey have ventured much farther?
"I'll come back when it's all over."
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The last I met you
Was alas, not a dream
Nor even the most horrific of nightmares!
For it was, instead, another vile entity
That burned such dreams into awakening.
And never again, would I find sanctuary,
Not in my mind forever riddled with torment…
Into undying memory
Was your prayer's image emblazoned,
As bloodstained as the day it was born.
How dreadfully easy, had pink and silver merged
To form paint's untruth, the crimson of death!
For death was imminent in your glassy eyes
When you fell into my arms.
What precious life would I have rescued
Had I taken the blade
And be slain in place of you!
For while clutching your body, in agonized despair
I had begged for you to stay, Aerith.
A bloom, finally wilted, in the midst of nowhere
You were, as you were my beloved.
No object or being could ever match your beauty
Even as you hung, lifeless –
Eternally robbed of all sensation.
But it was not your pain, which I felt.
Through a veil of tears, I carried you
Unaware that they leaked from my own eyes.
But yours were lidded so delicately –
The perfect illusion of sweet slumber
Spoiled only by lack of warmth,
Warmth you would have had if you still lived.
Flower Girl,
Had you known you would destroy me at last
When you spoke not your final good-bye?
With serene grace, you drifted downwards
To rest upon the lakebed's cold earth.
And my heart tore apart, in pained realization
That you were gone from me forever.
Not 'if', but certainty, had named our love star-crossed
For it was already too late when I said:
"I love you."
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Fin.
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A/N: You and I both know what reviews are capable of, heh.--