de-flower, de-wind.

I remember thinking,

when younger--

that once that flower died

my whole

world

would change.

That I would walk the halls a new--real!--

woman, not just loved, but admired.

Imagine my surprise when I learned

that wasn't love. Force and heavy hands

≠ anything (they only equal those two, sorry things).

And, (years later, different hands) I remember thinking

for hours and

hours [fearing] the day the string

that held us from ground to kite

would break. Snap.

It didn't. The wind just

died. Stopped the flight.

You can imagine my surprise

when the world didn't end.

I guess that takes a lot more than

flowers and wind.