when trying
to pour your heart out
to the one person you love
is met with rejection
and disdain
the heart becomes a sealed chamber
never revealing itself to anyone ever again

And at the end of the night
when all the creaks in the floorboard are tired
of creaking
and the sky looks like oil slick on asphalt,
all fuzzy black and still;
while midnight creeps in
through gaps in laughter
and yawns wide enough to swallow me whole;
after the lull of full bellies
and soft yellow good-nights fade into the blissful quiet,

I still close my eyes
and I think of you.

She talks regularly and with great enthusiasm,
of all the flowers she's ever gotten.
From boys and lovers and friends,
and even that one girl, from camp.
She remembers vividly, all petals and pollen.
She elaborates each scent, and colours each bloom.
But when I asked of her lovers names 
She said she had forgotten.