I want flowers.
I want to see flowers on the dining room table, succulents on my dresser
I want to see living flowers, I never want to have to break them down
to size, to fit in our tiny compost bucket
I want to buy them, I want you to pick them for me, I want them to show up mysteriously on my porch
like they have once or twice, my friends gifting me something simple and beautiful and alive
Just because.
I want to smell springtime in my house, in my room
I want a simple gesture of affection
I want brilliant orange and yellow exploding out of green
I wouldn't mind soft pink or sassy magenta, pure white, even purer red
I want flowers.