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How to Bloom in the Dark

A poem about finding yourself in the reflective eyes of another

Jan 12, 2025

I looked at her,
time-beaten, sun-worn face
missing two pedals, stem bent
white as open eye, with purple
bruised hue from unnamed harm.
Starved. Moon dust her only food.
We were both not meant to be.
Yet we were no longer alone,
strangers under the stars
friends in unfurled death,
as she let herself go before me —
dry tears of a life forever burdened.
And in my grief-stricken moment,
under constellations chandeliers,
this moonflower found a truth that I,
only blindly stumbled upon: