god of flowers

tell me how to lose the pinwheels 
of my face. i build guillotines
for the necks i've used.
gather in a pouch a handful 
of cinnamon & the scabs of a 
yellow rose. gift me a mirage of wings.
i want to be the angel 
just for a night. wear glass skin
& press my lips to the cool dirt.
tell soil, "here's a daffodil"
& "here is a dandelion."
sometimes i look in the mirror
& my whole face bursts into 
needles. i touch the skin. 
knick my fingers. ask to see
the carnation or at least the rose.
my eyes are watering holes
for snakes. they come. 
your messengers. i want a body 
without so many seasons.
to want a body that doesn't change
is to want no body at all.
if i could then be a grove 
or maybe just one flower's spire.
i crave all the smallness 
the world took from me.
i met you only once. ambled down
to the creek where trout
gossip & wait to be fished.
kneeled down & gazed into the water.
there you slept just beneath 
the surface. i said,
"tell me how to drown alive."
you kept sleeping. were you cadavered?
clouded by algae. lips as blue bells.
i was the girl worshipper. cut my hair.
planted each strand & waited.

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