A Thousand Flowers

Once,

I wanted a piano.

Big, keys in a tint of gray –

just like the one mom used to play.

I’d place it by the window that I always keep open,

The one where the most sunlight usually breaks in.

And there I would learn the prettiest of tunes and

practice until the sun is replaced by the moon.

But I guess it’s “too difficult”, Right?...

The piano? ...

- “How about an acoustic guitar?”

- “Sure, it sounds fine. It’ll fit in the car.”

The strings were metal and not as smooth,

but they weren’t the problem if I’m telling the truth.

I’ve learned a couple of songs, before I was through,

because what I really wanted,

I always knew.

Once,

I wanted a sewing machine,

I’d dress myself in the brightest of colors, and

make so much noise, annoy my brothers.

I would make a dress, a shirt, even a skirt. And if I

treat it with caution I would never get hurt!

But still, it’s “too dangerous”, right?...

The sewing machine?...

“How about a sewing kit?”

I did enjoy that but only for a bit.

maybe if I embroider a hundred tiny flowers...

and so that I tried for a couple of hours, but

I only did a few, because what I really wanted,

I always knew.

...

Once I got everything I needed

And for what I wanted, I never pleaded.

Once I tried to sugar coat,

Rock-hard cotton candies up my throat.

Once I tried to go with the flow,

Like a dead little fish in a sad floating row.

...

And one day

I’ll get a shiny little thing, and

hear a sound with a fallacious ring.

It will pop a terrifying question.

And will God help me spill an objection? like:

“I want an ocean under my Clair De Lune

And not just the fraction of your lagoon!”

- “She doesn’t know what she’s saying, forgive her!

She likes the strings, and her hands, anyway, shiver -”

- “In your affection, I am showered,

but even if I stich you a Thousand flowers,

they’d all be stitched in blue.

Because what I want,

I always knew.”