Florida Days

By Kelly Grace Thomas

 

Dried out flowers in the purple vase,

my petals are falling off.

It always rains on Sundays to remind me of

the weight of your tonuge, 

or the way eyes lower the temperature in a room.

Heart beat, jungle gym, handle with care.

Even with palm trees out the window

I’m still looking for paradise.

In rocking chairs we think of nothing but love,

our memories are stitched in moments of exploration.

Your hands will write my history.

I wasn’t sure we would find each other

Amongst the coffee grinds and gerber daisy daydream.

While I was waiting for the scars to heal

someone changed the rules.