I want to be like a dandelion
Full of color and patience
Waiting for the day to come
Where I'm free to fly away

dandelion is me,
wind has my fate.
it sends me to the mud,
where it's filled with unknown.
I thank wind for teaching me,
"you'll grow when you start to appreciate"

butterfly
step by
step
brick
nail by
nail
snail
sitting
in the hair
of a willow
dandelion
pillow

May dandelion embroidery watch over you as you sleep.

It's nostalgic for me to speak in such a wishful language. It's foreign to you - this strange concept of peace and an unconditional, untethered intimacy where you no longer have to flinch at one's unpredictable movement.

Where was it while you grew? The trust? Where was it as you were forced to reconsider everything that is not yourself? And why now, as you sleep vulnerable, do you flinch at my touch?

~ A.M, F.H.