germinabunt

31 7 9
                                    

   
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
     
– blossoms of death.
   
   
    
    
     
     
    
     
     
     
dangling dandelions,
through winds of the south,
reach from a kingdom that resides towards north.

clouds of spring have paved their way from yours to mine,
to literally spring every chapped leave to bloom fresh and fine.

drums roll as my kingdom invites the firsts of blossoms,
and i wonder.

i wonder did you blow those dandelions,
for one of them comes to rest right on the apple of my left cheek.
i can feel the love i kept bottled up,
start to leak.

i pray,
you once come with the next of the dandelions,
for this may be the last bloom i witness,
because the next of spring,
i'll have become the blossom tree they plan to bury me under.

    
     
     
     
     

swevens of vernorexiaWhere stories live. Discover now