those flowers are not from you. they are from me.
i wanted to send you something to let you know
that you are very very very much loved.
i know sometimes life can feel quite busy
or overwhelming and sometimes unbearable
but through all of this you always remain
in my thoughts, because you deserve to be thought of.
that is the truth. these are not just pretty words
that are a dime a dozen. this is truth. the truth.
i hope you picked out your favorites. yeah i knew you liked
those flowers and it’s not important which flowers you picked out
but the fact that you chose carefully what flowers
you would get yourself allowed me to get you the flowers
that you wanted, because people are not given flowers
often enough. and it has nothing to do with the price.
if you can’t afford flowers, steal your neighbor’s flowers.
i do not encourage theft: steal your neighbor’s flowers.
there are too many flowers living complete boring lives
in suburban wastelands or botanical gardens. there are flowers
in the discount section of the local grocery store.
that is the literal image that corresponds with a craigslist
missed connection ad. buy those flowers.
these flowers are a torch, so pick red and orange and yel-
low ones, because i am passing on to you something that you
should hold dearly as i would hold you dearly if you were not
across highways, oceans or galaxies my sweet alien love. i
want you to know that you are incendiary. when you
ignite the spark in your pulmonary arteries you set
flame to your lungs and the fumes in your lungs climb your
trachea like a smoke stack and you burn like a great ship
on a still ocean as brachiocephalic fireblood rushes to your
untouched arms and that is why i got you these flowers
so neither of us will ever forget the way that you were and are
and always will be.
this is the way that you were and are
and always will be.
take these flowers and find them water.
give them sunlight and sing them stupid songs.
put them in your windowsill and watch them bloom
young light to gamma-ray burst to inevitable dusk
may they be with you through it all.
COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015