spores

there is a
lily
growing
beneath my tongue
it breathes in
every whispered
ode to love
its petals
dance
on my every
word
painting them
in subtle
lavender
exposition

though
my tongue
carries
the sharpness of
the blade of grass
to prune
the impudence
in the garish
display

when i said forever it wasn’t an abstract juxtaposition, it was a solemn oath

when you repeated the word, the question mark was muted by your heartfelt stare

your pollen still floats in my dreams, as my heart is covered in your spores

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