When you burn my body, do it at dusk. I’m a sucker for a good sunset, and I think it would be nice to go out as the first stars of the evening wink on, while the world eats and parties, laughs and fucks, toasts to many more happy nights to come. I want to become a cloud stalking the city like a genie sprouting from a lamp, tiny at first but spreading apart, twisting and pluming up into the void. I want the smell of my memory sweetened by wet evening grass. I want to spread far over the city, so do it high up; on a cliff, maybe, or from the top of a building. I want all this, and one other thing.
I want the darkness to hide my secrets, all the little parts I’ve tucked away. I want you to close your eyes as the fire eats me, and smile. Smile and remember sunny mornings, warm smiles, and all the sweet words I might have said. Smile and close your eyes tight, like you’re making a wish. Then I can go easy, if I know you don’t see: I’ll float free when I know my ugliness burned away with me.