POEM: “Asking For Flowers” — lest they be allergic to flowers / and are fake / as air fresheners.

Asking For Flowers

He said my kisses were too wet
Too sweet, and spat in my mouth
to show me.

He wanted me not to wear leggings
and my wife beater to make supper:
be feminine.

Our kiss in the photo was slim
and dry, paranoid and reserved.
Like him.

My style most times was not like her:
demure, quiet, troubled and
dim.

He told M later he hated my laugh, and
the way I said “chérie” was
an annoyance.

In romance and loving where seeds
are planted, I do predict
this garden…

The bad seeds grow and strangle
the flowers – leaving decay,
love down trodden.

Choose wisely – your Gardener
who tends kindly to blossoms
lest they be allergic to flowers

and are fake

as air fresheners.

Sylvie Hill, Montreal, November 13, 2020