The Sun-Flower Pact



You will destroy me

before I sprinkle you with destruction’s powdered whisper

or if I prove to be too big for my mouth

destroy me harder.


However she filtered you toward the bluebell sky

whatever soft magic her hands wreathed into

the petals of your truth, I will sun and rain you better

will glitter like crack-of-dawn diamonds my butterfly fingertips on your

breaths, will summer and winter you better

than strawberry ice cream for honey-brown hot fudge.


In our famous garden a secret flower

inside the one passers-by see and envy

will flourish, only breezed by our whispers

like the shadow of a gaze sequestered

somewhere in the morning glade’s painted sprawl.


Promise me this:

If I turn out to be just as young as the others

a wet butterfly dreaming of a cicada’s centuries

a mirrored reflection seeing summer and not the fetal autumn

that strains at the ice-eyed sky’s pregnant curtain;

If like all the young lovers

my words ripen, fall

and fallow in meaningless dust,

Promise me the greatest pain you can inflict

in rising ever higher, stem shooting straight

for the clouds and tear-eyed sun somewhere beyond

our memory

Leave me in the dust of September

scarred by the untattered petals of a sunflower



Image credits in order of appearance:

By Thomas Quaritsch – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0,

By T.Voekler – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0,


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