You dropped a seed when you kissed me
for the very first time and that little seed
fell passed my lips and through my heart
into my soul. It found soil and solitude
inside my lungs and it grew brighter and
more beautiful with each kiss to follow.
I'm not sure if it was a rose or a sunflower
or even a lily like you gave the last girl.
But I never felt any thorns and my days
came not only easier, but happier as well
so I tell myself it was a sunflower and
you were the sun. Which means I am rain.
Before too long birds and butterflies
were prancing around my heart and
bees found a hive in my shoulders
(don't ask why they settled there,
I'll never understand it myself).
Everything was thriving -
flourishing even it was
such a sight to see. Until one day
they took too much oxygen
and I forgot how to breathe.
That was the day I realized
that you had left and you
had no intentions of coming home.
Was it the flower or you
that killed me?
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