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The Flower Shop
I dreamt I had waywardly strolled
into a flower shop
with its sign faded and barely readable.
Tile flooring was buried
under the weight of pre-packaged bouquets.
My eyes were grabbed by some
red roses
seared by passionate fire, so I brought them
between my calloused fingertips.
They took on
the delicate caress of your hands.
I was witness to carnations
smeared the color of a cherubic face.
Your beautifully smiling countenance came to me
instantly
while they mingled with the roses
upon being picked up.
Silently tucked away
lay royal hyacinths dressed up in purple robes and crown.
Crystalline droplets fell away
from the petals on their ascent into my hands,
bounding off the leaves and almost
extinguishing the roses’ fire.
I wished to preserve these
robes for the princess whom I always
stood by hand-in-hand.
You stood there at the checkout counter,
arms outstretched,
as if to invite these flowers out of
my heart into yours.
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