Something Softer Than Flowers

Something Softer Than Flowers

It’s December 2016, and we pack these winter blossoms

into bento boxes, whispers of potential

to warm these bones, worn as a wish

but later wrapped as a promise.

You profess you cannot understand poetry

so brave the words in plain sight, born of longing

for a lighter spring, a bold leap towards belonging

to the flow of the seasons and folded limbs.

‘More fun’, you said, ‘more time’, list reasons to celebrate

our intertwining lives and smile at the story so far.

The story; so far.