I remember you in the morning,
bending down to kiss me.
You were like a tree,
surrounding me in leaves.
My fingers reaching like roots,
searching for a place to bury--
A home to grow as a bing cherry,
aching for attention.
Wrap around me with your vines,
you make me feel so alive.
I will turn outwards toward the light,
and my petals will fall forthright.
My seeds will fall onto the floor,
as I am picked and eaten and ignored.
I will never die,
but I will wilt.