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2020-04-08, poems


flowers don’t wilt,
they die

flowers don’t live,
they thrive

i told her this as the sun
burst through the window
shining on her naked back as she
lay away from me.

you can’t ever cash out,
there’s no such thing,
once you pull that flower
out of the ground,
there’s little time before it
withers away.

beauty is a process
and it can’t be halted.

she wasn’t awake
but goddamnit
it was the best conversation
we’ve had in weeks.