wildflower

when i tried
i failed, i failed, i failed.

i failed ten times for you,
and still your name is sweet on my lips.

the curve of your “o”
is the sun of spring,
the spring of my summer.

and the weight of your name on my
tongue
is like the weight of
waiting.

the red valerian
has lost its decorative appeal.

it bleeds into fade,
the light of your eye,

and i try.





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