i want to be here for
the ugly.
the inopportune,
the odious.
moments when
your back breaks
from carrying
a heavy load,
when your heart bursts
from the inside,
when your tongue
becomes toxic.

i want to
plant hydrangeas
in the crevices
of your spine,
rose bushes
in your heart,
peonies in your mouth,
so that when nurtured,
you are able to stand,
able to love,
able to speak of yourself
splendidly.

know that this
is not the end.

know that even when
my hands grow weary,
and
my knees become
scabbed and
dirt- covered,
i will happily
wipe the sweat
from my aching brow
and tend to you.

because all of the ugly,
the inopportune,
the odious,
will be forgotten,
the moment
you begin
to blossom.