you said you would plant honeysuckle in anticipation of my return.
you ARE the honeysuckle.
you are the morning glories.
you are the asters, the hollyhocks, the lilacs, the lavender..
you are the broad, flowering desert willows.
every embrace is sweet nectar, personified.
every taste is laced with tender petal kisses. nourishing, saccharine divinity.
it is I, who will tend garden in your recess.
sift soft earth, between deft fingers, in anticipation of your return. fold layer after layer of loam at your feet.
in your absence I will grow too.
emerging from chrysalis stage.
when you tuck yourself sweetly in to your garden, I will lap happily at the deep reservoirs of your ambrosia.
we will reap the bounty of harmony.
I only ask that you bloom for me.
and I will be your butterfly.