your tongue is a flowerbed.
every word you speak falls out
in the shape of a petal.
flowers grow behind your teeth.

i want you to open it up to me,
let me see the peonies that have
grown inside your mouth.
let the same ones grow inside mine.

there's a moment, late at night, when the
world has gone to sleep that i sit and think
to myself; what is life like away from here?
where, in this big wide galaxy could i find
happiness? because it's not here, where i am
now. where do i find it? where do i even
start looking?