It Grows in My Closet

1 min
Image of Fall 2020
Image of Poetry
I hide a flower in the tabernacle
Of my closet. I push
away the shoeboxes scuffed to shriveled
cardboard, filled with the towering trunks
of heels felled.
away the compost bins
of weed green
hospital scrubs sepulchered.
away the mulch of leaves,
lemoning notebooks of sixth grade
Science, potential, kinetic energy, an unstoppable
spontaneous reaction towards

Within the entropy, untouched
Is the belled blossom nodding
Off to plangent psalms.
Its head droops, petals furled
Around ovule words cradled
From vibrating the molecules,
Of air, from raying synaptic
Electricity through the copper
Wire of pen.

Green seeps out of leave venation
like blood cut from the face.
Roots rive twisting through nylon
Tufts of carpet, a topsoil of molded foam
Fiber and plastic.
Xylem stains sunset; strains to push ink
Up the transparent stem thrombosed—
Chromatography paper
red, yellow,
and black boundaries
Blotted and blurred—

By tears, due dates, and caffeine
I water, slicing
My throat on papercut
Thorns and printer paper leaves
Chafing like dry wind chimes.
I do not know any other way to pry
The bud open
to let me finger
Its nectar ink
to my lips.

I come to the flower to pray, profess
Mea culpa, then bicker, bite,
Grieve, scream, sob, stomp, strangle,
Stalk snapping. Ink
When I’m done, I leave.
The closing closet door crushes
Sunlight into the mortise crevice
With a paper-crumbling crunch
Between my palms
Pressed together.

I take souvenirs of the closet and flower.
A chest X-ray would irradiate
The infiltrates in my ground glass
Lungs lesioned; bronchiole
Branches blooming into
asbestos dust and pollen.

Long after I have closed the door,
The flower continues to murmur
in timid tintinnabulations,
tinnitus so loud
It bursts my eardrums
bleeding ink
Out of my ears
so loud so loud it lances
cranial vessels spilling ink across my brain.

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