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"WHEN I TELL THE FLOWERS HELLO, SHE KNOWS" by Lauren Saxon

10/14/2022

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Lauren Saxon is a Queer, Black poet and engineer living in Portland, ME. She loves her cats, her Subaru, and spending way too much time on twitter (@Lsax_235). Lauren is Editor of Glass: A Journal of Poetry, and her work is featured in Flypaper Magazine, Empty Mirror, Homology Lit, Nimrod International Journal and more. Her first chapbook, "You're My Favorite" is forthcoming with Thirty West Publishing. Selected publications can be found on her website, www.laurenMsaxon.com

WHEN I TELL THE FLOWERS  HELLO, SHE KNOWS
            — After Paige Lewis
 
that i  am talking to directly to Her
 
i’ve grown weary of saying the phrase   you left us
though it was your choice,  of course,  to leave
 
alternatively—   i acknowledge that your decision
was actually    a simple change in residence 
 
that these days, instead of merely one body, 
you call every shade of purple     home
 
sometimes in sunsets,    but more frequently in the flowers
that i find, conveniently scattered amidst my path
 
i am walking to work and there you are      blooming
oh hey, my love   i say to you,  in particular
 
sometimes     i pretend to be annoyed
to be frustrated to see so much of you
 
yes?    i ask,      what do you want this time?
always with a smile in my voice
 
even when you were alive      i remember
how much you loved attention
 
and while this  has become our routine      i am 
often shocked to see you in places where nothing should grow
 
to see you on days    when there is no sun
when i want,   so badly,   to join you 
 
there you are—   
 
saying  Hi      in a voice that is 
somehow, softer than the bellflower petal itself 
 
it stops me in my tracks
 
and with a deep inhale   i realize    this
is the closest I can get to you
 
next    i  hold your home directly in front of my face
so close  that it sometimes brushes   against my nose now &
 
then      in a different realm,
you are standing  just inches from me  and
 
this     is my favorite part--
when the flower flutters gently in the wind
 
i rush to inhale   what must be your breath
saying hello, once more
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  • Home
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