Various Titles By A Wandering Soul

25- Floral Endings

When I started my first book, I thought of worlds that weren't my own. I thought, "I can escape. I can escape to São Paulo and write rhymes to play with." But then I couldn't keep myself grounded in that world of violence.

I went back to my own.

Later I fished through them. Those are my weakest words. When I'm hiding, you notice an uncoordinated glide incapacitated by uncertainty. But when I'm honest, with myself, you can see it all.

My descriptions of a dreamland, you will never see, brought you so much closer to me.

See, writing about hope turned into actual hope. Complaining that it wouldn't go anywhere made it go. Doubt made reality appear much more clear. And being honest about my habits turned down the fear.

I find my culture in flowers. The daisies down the street. The iris growing in my front yard, and my iris glowing pink. It's not pink eye, but romance. I see u now. I see it all now. My ending that I wrote. about in July of 21, is really a floral ending that hasn't yet begun.

I took a picture of a flower in the rain. I made it grey and warm and called it a day.