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.