radfrac_archive_full: (writing)
The supermarket must have had millions.
Why was it so hard to find flowers that day?
I walked everywhere, a one-man Internet
Crawling the city for gerbera
Iris, tulips, anything – why is there
Only one kind of iris for sale?
Gardens are rivered with foaming dragonfaces.

I was a bad gardener. Is that why
Flowers eluded me when I wanted to say
Whatever it was I wanted to say? Welcome home.
Don’t leave me. Hyacinths mean naming
Transience is not the same thing
As lacking faith. What year was that?
It must have been the last.

Here on my desk, gerbera, something local
And the one whose name sounds like falsehood
But I can never remember. Oh, Disbuds.
In the purple vase. I do buy myself flowers
Sometimes. Sometimes I pretend
They are for other people.

These ones I meant for a friend but then
Never brought to her. I hope she forgives me.

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