SPILLED QAHWA #2: FLORA

 

I swear you’re made of flowers.
I swear if I cut you open,
inside you’d be chrysanthemums.
I swear you’ve got roses on your tongue.
I swear you’ve got daisies for ribs
and tulips instead of lips.
You have orchids where ears were.

And you’ve got me made of flowers too.
Yesterday, I found carnations in my collarbones
and baby’s breath between my fingers.
Took a look at my thighs
and to my surprise, found
lavender.

You make me feel like Mother Nature herself,
like you awoke her inside of me
and now I’m raging with lust for the Earth.
I’ve got grass instead of hair, and
hibiscus for hips.
There are
morning glories in my morning coffee
and daffodils in my daydreams.

I was always one for florals,
but you’ve got me gazing at gardens now,
because there's something there that I recognize.
Because there’s something there that looks like my insides:
gardenias instead of gums,
lilac in my lungs,
stomach filled with butterflies.

I know we'll thrive together.
Our vines’ve already intertwined
and you say the thorns in my mind
don’t bother you.
I know we’ll grow like weeds do.

And when the precipitation comes, don’t worry about it, love.
We can always make a desert flower or two
and cacti always seemed to me like pretty growth.
And when the sun comes up,
we’ll bask in its glow.
Let the sunflowers in our chests
open wide with electric yellow.
We’ll bloom like roses after winter.
Shy in the light, a shade of red so bright
passerby’s eyes would go fuzzy
if they looked at us too long.
And the rain and snow will all seem like a fever dream
'cause we grew a love that’s evergreen.

***
text // rawa majdi
art // norah aljassar