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dandelion


Alyssa Pinkston


remember when we went of that picnic in the spring?

I picked a bundle of flowers


while you walked back to the car to get our blanket

when you returned

I presented you the array

your reaction made my day

I plucked another one

I tucked the other one

behind your ear

and you smiled softly


the broken glass

from the abandoned greenhouse

reflected starry segments

to make your eyes sparkle even brighter

you pulled out a cigarette

asking if I had a lighter

we sat down to our picnic

admiring the clouds

my head gets impossibly loud

but your voice is so soothing

talking about nothing

and meaning everything


remember when we went on that picnic in the spring?

I still have that bundle of flowers


dried up on my dashboard

my heart is shattered

like the greenhouse panes

you are oblivious to the fact

that you caused me any pain

I wonder if you even remember that day

maybe someday

I’ll pick up the pieces

I look back fondly

on what might have been

until then

I’m left with the array

of dried-up flowers

from the field

on my dash



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