The kitten-shaped egg timer on the corner of the mattress beeps and they switch positions. Now she is cradling him. His head rests on her slender left arm; her right arm she drapes around his waist ... [+]
Hannah Erlbacher is a third-year medical student, poet, and lover of grunge rock. She resides in Iowa City with her husband and tortoiseshell cat. "Pruning" was originally a finalist in Short Édition's Long Story Short Award contest, 2022.
It's okay to rip flowers out
and to set fire to vines,
to pluck petals off without
counting to love me
or love me not.
It's okay to let fruit spoil
without giving it a chance
to taste sweet.
It's okay to have weeds and bees
and birdbaths full of June bugs,
to plant watermelon seeds
that will never grow.
It's okay to cut the heads off roses
and to water the bush that will never bloom.
It's okay to dance
in a garden of goodbyes
to let go,
to make room.
and to set fire to vines,
to pluck petals off without
counting to love me
or love me not.
It's okay to let fruit spoil
without giving it a chance
to taste sweet.
It's okay to have weeds and bees
and birdbaths full of June bugs,
to plant watermelon seeds
that will never grow.
It's okay to cut the heads off roses
and to water the bush that will never bloom.
It's okay to dance
in a garden of goodbyes
to let go,
to make room.