Sunday, June 30, 2013

Sunday flowers

The petals kiss my cheeks
As I pass beneath
This Sunday morning ritual
Of flowers and fruit
With me, a persistent bumble bee
Buzzing above each glorious opening
Breathing in the pollen
That churns up honey in me,
Stirring in these aisles of green
Dotted with reds and yellows and blues
Sunflowers like faces in a mirror
Staring back with broad smiles
As if to say it’s okay to feel this way
This urgency, this lust for life
That grows most acute
As I press my lips to the tips
Of each flush bloom
To taste and take into me
All that each opening has to give
To fill myself up with it
And its pungency
Until I overflow
And explode

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