In case I forgot your flowers

I.

I said I loved flowers
roses, their red was unlike anything I've seen
nature's kiss for the eye
you said they belonged outdoors
just like I belonged best between words
I answered that I like flowers regardless
and you said you like my adoration of little things, regardless

II.

The flowers you gave me for my birthday grew
not where we said they would
because you mentioned dirt and rain
I thought you meant the garden, always wishing well for everyone-
but I left the petals for my skin
they grew on me -the flowers and I
I kissed the hands that gave them
that provided their water.

III.

Must we now speak about
insignificant clouds? Must we?
their shades would never hurt
nor question the colors in my hair
variations of brown to ash,
nor would they harm the green sap in your eyes
just give me your palm and keep silent
no more talk about imminent rain in our spring.

IV.

You ran your hand in my hair
begged me to chose a climate
a land best fitting all the
red poppies and lilacs you promised
me earth but I said I needed to wait for the season
to change, for my roses to bloom again
and I chose words, maybe to fill the gap
dead roses left on my windowsill.


V.

All that's left of thunder was a split
of the sky, a drizzle of stars
too cold for anything to grow
too cold for color. My world turned monochrome
while yours colored slowly.
I lent against a tree, in my fingertips tangled
the few roses, flowers you printed
like rings onto me.


VI.

Remember you gave me flowers
for my birthday
roses red and irises blue
told me they grow on me
I have buried them under the fig
where we hugged last, the last roses
have waited, too long for their waters
so when you are here again
maybe we'll dig the silver roses out
and I will wear them again
before their next blossom
or final funeral.