This is the part
     where everything
                        changes.
This is the part
         like an orchid
                requires patience.
This is the part
      where the universe
                                    bends
                      ­¬                       and you fold
                                                               the paper
                                                        into
                                           flowers.
Cover me in chrysanthemums.
This is the part
        where our knees become inch worms
     under the table.
Cover me in dirt.
This is the part
      that   comes   on   slow   at   first
      then
      heavy
      urgent
      pulses
      rush
      through
      us
      adding
      impulse
      to
      injury
            manipulating
    our insides
              twisting
       folding
            contorting
  every nerve
            until they


RIP.


But the pieces don’t get rest.
This is the part
    where the lions roar
    like violets showing their teeth
    at the sun.
    They nibble the flesh
    without breaking
    the skin.
    It’s paper thin.
This is the part
    where I ball up my paper fists
    and wrestle with the tiger lilies
    while you remain at war with my tulips.
This is the part
    where we dig up the dirt
    and we ruin us.
This is the part
    where the dandelions B U R S T
    like supernovas
    and suddenly
ev-er-y
    syll-a-ble
           counts.
You said
    Everyone's b/ r/ o/ k/ e/ n in some way.
You said
    when you were young
    you saw the miracle of birth for the first time
    and you've been turned on
    ever since.
You saw life spring from the womb.
I think I saw you mesmerized by the way things bloom.
You tell me
     about your birds and bees
     like how getting your head rubbed
     at the hair salon
     turns you on.
Well, this is the part
       where I rub your head
       and turn you on.
This is the part
     where I see your dark side
     and learn the true meaning
     of the blue in your eyes.
This is the part
     where you flip me over
and tell me
"Don't stop."
I don't stop.
Why would I stop?
I can't
stop.

And
    this
         is
          the
             part
                 where
                        we
                            fall

  A

       p
          a
        r
           t.

Tell me you don't want this.

Tell me you don't want this
   and I'll leave this bed of marigold
and
    change
  my
      form.
Tell me you don't want this
   and I'll never hold your gaze
                                                          to­¬o                     l   o    n      g
                                       again.
Tell me you don't want this
     and I'll unfold myself from your side
     along with the paper flowers.
     You can take back the roses
     **** the daises
     but leave me the daffodils.
Tell me you don’t want this
     and our forget-me-nots
     will forget us
     and our bleeding hearts
     will bleed us dry.
Tell me you don't want this
                                  and I'll rewind the movie
                           play it BACK
                 from the beginning
         only this time
     we'll pay
attention.
     I'll silence the lions
     and put them BACK in their cages.
                                        I'll bend
                      the universe
         BACK into
shape.
But tell me you want this
and this will be the part
where we pick the paper petals
                                                  off  the
                                                           stem and
                                                             ­         watch them
                                                            ­                           fall like
                                                            ­                                    cherry blossoms.
                                                       ­          He loves me.
                                                             ­                   He loves me not.
                                                            ­         Forget me.
                                                             ­                       Forget me not.