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full bloom

she took her sweet time


two years of pot-into-sink

1-minute-running-water

back-to-the-windowsill-shelf

wipe-down-the-spill


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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