Pantone 17-3619 TCX/To The Flowers That Bloomed Me
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O, rose
You wear your petals like
A raincoat drenched in
The reign of yesterday’s quintet
Symphonies of future memories
Raining and cascading against
Precipitations of what might have been
Had we been flourished of softer Earth
Pray, tell me
Which phantoms now inhabit
The soils of your soil
O, hyacinth
Bloomed with fangs for petals
Honeysuckle-punch-drunk from your essence
Until I realized your nectar wore you
Trapped in trappings
Blood rich, a joke in poor taste
Your roots never had room in this empty garden,
A thought never flourished or fleshed
On the petals of your first bite
Into the truth
your roots had never been a root
A room
For us
O, iris
Residing where veiled i’s live
Third eye providing neue visions
Of future where my irises reside
A field to rest where the irises live
About the Creator
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One Unchecked Box
"Republished" because it was the only way to add the embed for the newly recorded audio version of this story due to the Top Story badge. Plus it serves as a nice, informal announcement of the podcast's revival for another season (go subscribe!):
By Stephen A. Roddewiga day ago in Fiction
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