Wildflowers by Lee Herrick

I asked the florist for a batch of wildflowers and ran in your

direction, I lost my shirt and let my skin be in the wind, the dolphins,

sleek like me, but as for us, the irresistible sea is to separate us. As for an hour

carrying us, what is the worst that could come from a light stroll on the beach?

The florist handed me the batch of seagrass. I paint moons by the ocean because dying

in an asylum is difficult to paint. What good is a year without ambition,

without fire to char the skin of your animal engine, without apology to correct history's wandering plot.

The natives farm the berries and will own it all, after all. What I mean to say is, we could wander

out to find our own beach with no boundaries, bonfires every time the sun goes down.

— Scar and Flower by Lee Herrick (Page 39)