I just wrote this this morning. It is definitely a work in progress. Please give it a read and give me some feedback!
“I hate writing you in pen and using a pencil is useless – I never want an excuse to erase.”
I gave you a vase.
Tossed my window knick-knacks in a drawer,
and let you water-dwell on my kitchen sill.
We moved to another room
where the sun’s shine silhouetted the backs
and tails of window-cooped picture frames.
I pushed off my books, placed you on my night stand.
Your pink petals welted, curled like frowned lips.
I slipped you into a new vase: blue, wine bottle-shaped.
Peeling like burnt skin, your petals
blue-dotted, bruised purple.
I stirred in a pinch of water crystals.
They rose to the surface and dissolved
Like shaken steroids.
Petals, now black, rolled,
dropped like cocoons.
Three petals remained –
bruised blue and purple:
I move you back to my kitchen sill.
The sun shifted like a spot light.
Your shrugged stem rose, lifted
your lips. Red buds collared the
neck of your stalk. Petals postured,
lips still lifted, you smiled.
The sun spread along the horizon.