spanish, daisies, soft, out, water, green
i heard her speaking spanish
in the flower shop, a bouquet of daisies
held delicately in her hand. her voice soft
and sincere, asking if they were still out
of new seeds for her to water.
surrounded by plants and i only saw her eyes, green.
i have the furthest thing from green
thumbs, i was behind on my spanish
homework. i must have been drawn to her like water
flows and sweeps up the daisies
in the current, slow pulse, ebb, flow, in, out.
my heart was beating differently, so soft.
her gaze dizzyingly sweet and soft
made me feel new, reborn and green
with all the time in the world to come out
of my shell, cook falafel or spanish
rice or learn to grow daisies,
commit to something thicker than water.
her laugh was high and clear as water
breaking over jagged rocks, white foam soft
and gentle forming patterns like daisies.
heart painted bright green,
verde, like my angry spanish
teacher taught me, always singling me out.
clammy palms and quick pulse told me i was out
of my league, hardly more interesting than water
and i didn’t know two words of spanish.
my face plain, my demeanor too soft
and soon i felt that green
monster reaching for those daisies.
if she didn’t already have them, i would give her daisies,
i thought, and knew she could toss me out
like nothing, like the green
rind of a watermelon, like dirty water
after bathing a child, skin so soft,
gentle and cruel and in spanish.
i hear her speaking spanish on my way out
so i stop to buy her daisies, her laugh like cold water
on the soft skin of my face, her eyes bright green.