I never knew whether to be flattered
by your care. Or suspicious.
I suppose now, as I stand back,
my weight pressured solely on my heel,
head turned up to the clouds, chin
puncturing out it's tears-
I know now-
that flattery lead you
everywhere your feet
wants to land.

i'd like to be a flower
               growing real tall off your wall-

                                     these nonsensical things,
                                          i keep thinking-
                                              dreaming-­
                                                 being-
                       I don't need to hear any-much-more
                                     about your happy life,
                                       just go on and be it

I'd like to grow-a not-yet-blossomed flower,
real tall off your wall and then falling
i keep thinking-
           these nonsensical things
falling real soft onto the chest of your bed.