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.