Like all flowers
humans die.
Our stems become limp
petals
pale and dry and crinkled
Our sweet scent
rots

I close my eyes tight and transcend to a fairytale
I am a little girl and my mother sits in a chair on the other side of the room
the dim light of a lamp splashes her face and the book sitting in her hands
I am older
I am twirling in circles on the street corner singing a song and dancing in the rainwater
I am forgoing my abstinence note I am standing in a shadow and my body is barer than ever before
I am picking flowers harvesting turnips and radishes and rare fruits and roots and smelling the earth from which they came
I am fighting evil I am fighting everyone I know I am fighting modernity I am fighting truth I am fighting myself
I am multiplying
The kicks in my belly remind me this is real I am full
I am swimming laps and laps and laps I am out of breath I am diving too striving too but when I come up for air I am smiling
I am quiet
so is my garden
The trees have grown taller than the house I watch the patterns the leaves make on the ground when the sun shines
I am bending I am shifting in my seat making adjustments twisting cranking
I am lost I am losing track of time the stairs I walked up are disappearing behind me
I am crying
I am dying