Tell me who Names the Flowers
by Eunus ︎︎︎I used to say to myself,
The world is full of lovable people — as long as I don’t meet them.
I must confess, I seemed to lack the ability to feel love for individuals. Universal love, sure. Love for humanity, love for the whole.
But that affection becomes unrecognizable in the fleshy face
that oozes with oil and something that smelled sweet, undeniably human and something like truth.
And
then—
I met him in the elevator after class.
I met him at the library classics section before I realized the books were all in Dutch. Or maybe I really met him when he was in my room, naming the flowers on my desk — the ones that I bought for myself on Valentine’s because they were all dressed up in this pretty pink pot and not because I was
oh so tragically lonely.
I met him in the elevator after class.
I met him at the library classics section before I realized the books were all in Dutch. Or maybe I really met him when he was in my room, naming the flowers on my desk — the ones that I bought for myself on Valentine’s because they were all dressed up in this pretty pink pot and not because I was
oh so tragically lonely.
He
embodied all the crumbly bits and sprinkles of joy and what makes life worth
living and intimacy worth dying for.
And his words carried such a deep that shames the sea.
I went around, holding the secrets he told me like precious stardust in my palms and I would vow to never wash my hands again,
to use them to eat or hold or caress.
And his words carried such a deep that shames the sea.
I went around, holding the secrets he told me like precious stardust in my palms and I would vow to never wash my hands again,
to use them to eat or hold or caress.
With
his restless ramblings of run-on sentences that made me wonder if he even
needed oxygen to breathe at all, or if the air around him was all too honored
to be consumed for his witty speeches, willingly dancing into his lungs.
One
day
He opened his arms and asked for love.
He was standing there so magnificently, filling up the space, so greedily, carnivorous
I dived into his grace, his benevolence,
with the love I felt for us all—
that I did not notice the world around us rotting,
and me with it.
He opened his arms and asked for love.
He was standing there so magnificently, filling up the space, so greedily, carnivorous
I dived into his grace, his benevolence,
with the love I felt for us all—
that I did not notice the world around us rotting,
and me with it.