I have been holding your flowers
since September.
Pressed between my license and a flier
-carried around for 3 hours-
from the time when I first found it
until I placed it
between
the mattress and the
wood.
I forget about it’s being there,
the minuscule height it adds
to the left side of the bed.
I forget about it’s having had
multiple dimensions
once,
instead of petal against petal
against petal
flat.
And you?
are there offerings beneath your bed?
Are you losing sleep?
staring at the map on your ceiling
as I am?
Or maybe you are sleeping peacefully
in a relationship or
solitude
content with the woman on your arm
or even,
Might you be
in love?
And someday we will love?
