We are flowers blooming in 8-bit.
Each pixel concentrated on 
exploding into light and color--
so small that no one sees, even if
they're looking for it. 

*They tell us to close our eyes.*
*It is not our spectacle to behold.* 

We close like clams
and open up pearl-less
just to let the water rush in. 
We choke on the salt and hope we
swallow our sins.

*They teach us to write backwards*
*so that no one knows our secrets.* 

We ache for the night but we
do not know why. 
The sun shrinks back
when we bloom because it is
terrified of the beauty of becoming.

*They tell us being takes brains.*
*We say courage.*