A Diary

a garden in me

I kiss flowers to know
how my lips would feel
against another form of life;
I'd be content if a sudden brush
or a gentle press confirms my existence;
Breathe in the pollen,
exhale it to everything else around;
Dig a hole within me,
Fertile my soul with everything good;
Bare feet be roots
always planted on the ground;
Arms be stems that spring
from the soil to the highest of places;
Fingertips be vines growing towards the light;
Flaws be thorns that strip me of vanity-
until a garden blooms in me!

I wish I have kissed enough flowers.