Burn, crocus by Stefanie Low @itsperstefanie

Burn, crocus, burn
in the garden of this start
you must paint your nails with flames
though we've never touched
I'm getting blushed
in the general direction of
Before this goes any further
You should know if I am
a mermaid gasping on land
I will need someone
whose shoulders taste
like salt
so I don't forget  my true element
and yours maybe
I don't know
Really I can only write stanzas
to the white flowers
under your skin
my favorite shade of
sun starved
I want to stir the petals
with a breath or a laugh
Your ragged
cuticles
beautiful to me
I have probably
said too much
but I am packed with glass
beads that break if not spilled
from that old red wound
They poke my insides
like reverse quills
write sadness on the walls
of my stomach with bile
But if the right person hears
then I am iridescent again
How can I feel this way still
caught in the circle of