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full bloom

she took her sweet time

two years of pot-into-sink




she waited through two years of that waltz

to show her first flowers

my orchid

never vocal in her demands

just insistent on her worth

she laid her flat leaves out,

three to the left,

three to the right

and saw no rush in soaking in the bedroom sun

setting through my western windows

for two years,

before even showing her first bud,

she made the stakes of the game clear:

every sunday,

you must bathe me

without fail

and, I, one day

after years of taking the sunset into my body

at a time inexplicable and unknowable to all but me

will burst that same sunset back out for you

to gaze upon like angel-feather fireworks

she took two years to get ready

- what a femme fatale -

and then with neither fanfare nor pretension

one - inexplicable and unknowable - day

she came out of her dressing room

in full bloom

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