two wilted yellow roses in a glass jar

Fairy Tale for Gardeners

He, donning the
skeleton of marriage,

knelt for her. & they
seeded flowers,

glassy as
a backhand’s kiss,

while the sun hammered
their oyster-breath into

memory. I unwound when
the night cracked open, like

hands against a mouth
whipped into rope.

Here: a ribcage & the stub
of a singed home.

Its ashes shooting
into daisies. Its bones

breaking into earth. The

blackening by the second.
Because he forgot

to catch the roses
in porcelain

shells. Because he—
because she— because

I fell out of flowers
& they told me it was love.