the language of flowers

 

the language of

flowers

  
it’s the language of attractiveness
like gravity like red cells swimming
inside arteries like summer nights
like jasmine says to a nose

and steady stance won’t you come
listening like a bee surely does
fluttering wings and molecules

a hunger for something sweet
like unreasonable beauty does
like honey on your tongue

all that’s wanting waiting to be
already is, like frosty breath like
hands in pockets huddled twice

till dancing toes draw the map
like does the sea like does the sky
and the moon and shadows too

and I wouldn’t speak your name
except I got nothing more to say
of matter much, besides

the flowers are shouting now
 
 

neil reid © january 2012

 

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