flowers
I looked at the flowers
while you made the tea
you had some news to give to me
I waited and trembled, what could it be
that could be so big it needed tea and
waiting
I knew it was the end of our
happiness, I knew in my bones as I
looked at the flowers
the hours and years of our romance
began to blanch as you calmly advanced
your reasons
your reasons for leaving you gave to me
over tea
and I looked at the flowers
the flowers I’d bought you to celebrate
to celebrate your return to home
and me and not to flee to your new end
without me in another country with your new boyfriend
I looked at the flowers
carnations I think blue and pink
and already dying because they were cut
and put in the vase to gracefully fade
but in their passing to gladen
to gladen the heart but mine passed into the shade
your sun would shine elsewhere
how could this happen?
I looked
and silently knew that you had returned
to our fairytale
as a thief who would take all the light
and sew the seeds of the weeds of grief
and so I looked in the calm
of moments before the storm
of showers that would fall from my eyes
and so I looked at the flowers
