Flowers sprouted from my mouth
Orange roses
Yellow marigolds from yours
When we kissed for the first time--
What a hybrid we made.
I was too busy dissolving in the scent of young love
Fickle on my tongue
To taste any blood.
I plucked the stems from their safe haven
And the linger of your lips
I planted them in their new homes
Little glass vases
Dying faster than they could be cured
withering, crunching away
one sickly petal at a time
because they couldn’t recognize survival
couldn’t grow in a home
that was a house without you.

Flowers can last weeks without sunlight
From my experience.
All they need is a dark room
And hope that the sun will return
And they will breathe as the days breathe
Follow its daily dance
But do they blossom
Or do they beg?

Grow old with me
As we’ve grown young
At the early hours of the morning.
Can we sprout limbs in bed
Climb to our highest peaks
Find hollows just big enough to hide our wounds
Can we strip our bodies to the bone
Unwrap our skin to reveal gardens
Plants born of rainbows
Can we kiss to nurture
Laugh to tend
Litter love as seeds?
As I break from my hinges
Soil turns to dust
Crumbling beneath your feet
May I still ask:
Will you grow old with me?