your name
became a dandelion clock haemorrhaging
time. seeds
in my teeth I spit out centuries, let them
blossom in cracked concrete. this
is what it means to bleed, to burst
into flower / explode colour, the way
a poppy seed knows it will one day be
red.
torn from sleep. each wish that I make
is a dandelion seed, and by that I mean
your name.
became a sunflower. stellated
galaxy coiling stars. fibonacci
expanding 1 1 2 3 5
like a grenade, spooling life
backwards until you clutch only petals,
white as teeth. throw away this confetti
and rewind, but we only see
your wrist-watch amongst the flowers,
still marking time.
I never expected to find
your name
like this. carved into a fallen tree.
counting rings, you must have worked out
how long a life should be. it tells me
how weathered you must be, by now,
how grown over, how shot through
with flowers. it colours
your name
forget-me-not
and the sun reads it once.
then gently, carefully,
(oh so beautifully
slowly) moves on.