1
Though not self-pollinating,
the peony multiplies when isolated.
And so she removes herself from her cluster,
and in her solitude, she blossoms
into a riot of dreams.

2
You are now a sentient being.
Two notes for year two:
You can’t crawl forever;
you’ll need to learn to walk on twos soon.
Your sister is coming.
Be nice.

3
He sits in the glass greenhouse
in a microclimate of his own.
And you are him, in part,
so you stop turning towards the sun,
because why bother
when there’s one revolving around you?

4
In tending to the garden
the gardener learns the plants’ secrets,
and in the secrets he knows
the gardener grows.

5
Grow tall and grow strong
so that the lawnmower might halt its blade;
so that you never have to wonder
what you look like in full bloom.

6
Patchy, unglazed bronze skin—
a hand-sculpted head with glass eyes
now a forgotten garden troll;
his presumptive body
never again filled by the presence
of a father.

7
Grow on the edges,
where the lawnmower won’t reach.
Grow low, unnoticed,
beneath the lawnmower’s blade.
Why must we all bend
to the will of the lawnmower?

8
What happens to a peony
in an overcrowded garden?
This one can move,
And so she uproots us to a place where we can bloom.

9
When you’ve moved houses twice
and moved homes thrice,
you’ll learn to appreciate
even the weeds around you,
because they are beautiful too.

10
Glass shatters when dropped;
blame it on your sister
because Angie doesn’t shatter.
She just slowly cracks from inside out—
you will realize this later.

11
Don’t protect our glass house
by throwing stones

12
Unwatered leaves
grow brittle at the touch
until all at once,
they let you go.
Unwatered people will too.

13
They say after winter comes spring
but they forget how winter creeps into spring
(like how summer’s creeping everywhere).
And it's okay because
flowers can grow through snow too.

14
Remember the garden that grows outside.
Peek into it, and pause
to touch grass while you can.

15
Large realizations dwarfing us—
here’s a little tip:
save a bit more of yourself,
before the realization of your slipping selfhood comes too late
and tramples us.

16
It’s ok to be lost in the weeds,
but remember to hydrate in your meanderings.
Drink so you may fill the cups
of lonely wanderers in your path.

17
Present.

18
Soon it will come time
to remove yourself from your cluster.
So to Year 18 and beyond:
dig your roots deep
and reach towards the sun—
hopefully, one day,
I’ll see you in full bloom.