Poem By Kylee Botten
Illustration by Sierra Hemingway
Flowers bloom in radiant hues,
from the first pluck,
to the hands that receive them.
A sign of internal connection.
They sit on my table,
in the singular vase I own,
for I need no more than one.
Their beauty fills the space,
and every colour seems carefully chosen.
But–
no two are alike,
just like me and you.
As time goes by,
as it always does so quickly,
the stems weaken,
and petals dry like the summer heat.
If touched they may break,
but if pressed,
they will last a lifetime.
Pinned within pages of chem and biology,
the petals hold their form.
Frozen in time,
like my own life,
held within your touch.