we spread our legs open wide
parting waves of the sea
or like all the trees that continue to regrow and change
this is the longest i have ever gone
without taking a blade to nature
and our budding flowers
they take on so much
flesh erupting
deciding when to take or
forget us
like petals falling
or picked apart by the hands of a little girl
soft and nimble, full of imagination
but told to utter
"he loves me. he loves me not."

and the last word stated
is meant to predict our future
we play little games to fantasize all the way
our fighting venus fly traps
can catch the rabbits and rats
beg them to stay
or to not stay
or they long to stay
so we let them
or we trap them with our claw like grip
or perhaps
there is nothing
for us to really win.