honeydew / no melancholy.

a poem.

Photo by Mae Mu on Unsplash

sitting in a field

pulling flowers

from their roots,

i rub the one

between my fingers

beneath your chin.

do you adore buttercream?

can you hear my heart scream?

she loves you

she loves you

she loves you

it never fades.

pluck petals from centerpieces.

pull florets off of floral eyes — mine

never leave your silhouette.

the grass beds still wet,

we collapse onto dewy moss

meant for grasshoppers and

hummingbirds — i’m

hypnotized.

honeydew.

no melancholy.

daydreams hurt

more than reality

because they administer

a sticky sweetness

i cannot taste

in real time.

☽