the problem with possessing

The earth placed pretty flowers in my palms. I liked them so much, I wanted to keep and protect them. I briefly, unwisely, admired them in my open palms and then I gently closed my fists. I kept them closed for hours. I knew I had to release my fists sooner or later. Every time I realised that, I held on a bit longer. My grip grew tighter. When I finally opened my palms, they were to crumpled flowers, barely visions of what they looked like as gifts. They were dying. I looked at them for several minutes. I fixed my gaze and watered them with some tears. Just as I realised what I had done, I brought them closer to my face. They flooded me lightly with an awakening fragrance. So I breathed them in a little longer. Soon… they smelt like nothing. As the Sun set on the grass I walked on, I gently scattered them on the floor. I dusted my hands and sighed. It was finally night.