I'm Not Trying to Say Anything

...I'm Just Telling You How It Is

Jana Brike, Thirst

There are wild orchids now,
bright fuchsia and
two bees hovering around me
or maybe my coffee
rich with cream, vanilla,
cinnamon. And the
Japanese maple that stood bare
three weeks ago lush with
leaves that appear to be floating.
Little hands, maroon and green
wanting to caress my cheeks.
The mulch beneath my feet as I step
into the garden. I’ve been beckoned,
my hand extending to the
delicate branch and yes,
the leaves tickle my face in
just the way I anticipate. 
Do I hear them laughing with me?

I used to feel an urgent sadness in the flowers,
like why couldn't I be as fragrant and charming?
Well, I am of a different breed
but no less miraculous. 

I used to be too clever to appreciate
the beauty of a flower, of me.

You tell me I am the smart one
in the relationship.
I disagree, but I know what you mean. 
I love how we compliment each other and
we are each others’ complements. 
I feel what love means.
I feel how I want your hands 
like I want the soft leaves of the
Japanese maple.

I see truth and beauty and I
feel it through the whole of me.
I see the cherry blossoms 
begging to be kissed, 
like my lips. And they can’t fuck me
like you do, but I can 
make love with them
in your absence. Though
I mostly feel your presence 
everywhere and in my hips.
And listen, I’m not trying to
say anything. I’m just telling you
how it is. 

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xx Faye ❤