Both
Boldly and openly,
like petals and pistils
that stretch to meet sunlight,
I am reaching today.
I fold first, like a concave valley,
and close my eyes tightly.
My roots thirst, then fill with water.
A calm comes from beyond.
My own trichomes volley
between romance and friendship
and conclude both equally,
like a song resonates in skin.
A decision exists
to seek you or bestow your going.
I cannot perceive either
in the epidermis and ether.
I don’t want to press you.
You are a gift not to be kept
like flowers in a memory book.
You are living bloom.
If you should run,
I might chase you, or cry,
or smile, knowing that
your leaves poured out,
sprouting vociferous wings.
If you go I must allow this wish.
Love does not smother,
but offers freedom, one to other.
I have missed you
in my heart and in my flesh.
Sometimes I can scarcely stand
against that trembling stem.
We are deftly separated
by space and time.
I search through eternity,
this particular synthesis, to find you.
And I so hope this one moment,
an unwieldy rotation, becomes ours,
waiting, because its truth dictates.
Growth doesn’t know or see outcomes.
I only recognize, when seeded deeply,
even the sepals bend gently over.
I have longed, with eager dreams,
to hold you, and I, up among the sky.
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