neruda knows

A Poem

By Juwayriya Bemath

“…what spring does to the cherry blossoms…”
 you picked at my thorns
and resentment picked at me
when you tried to force me to leave
this darkened cavern of knuckles i call home.
your vines grew into the spaces i found bare and deserted
till you reached for my petals and left me
like a squirming stem
blossoming with urgency.
i don’t know what it is about wet leaves and bare bark that has me hopeful,
but when you’re a towering canopy above my kneeling figure on the hardwood floor
that’s when i’m a seedling
just aching to burst forth