without a future
i am so still
i see the roses bloom...
slowly
slowly
slowly unfurl
flowing sculpture recreating continuously
beauty
opening
opening
opening
the inside revealing itself
ever so slowly
i only notice
when i am very still
otherwise,
hurrying along,
mind in the imaginary future,
i miss it
i perceive they are doing nothing at all,
just sitting there day after day after day...
and i want to hurry them along,
rip them open
to find what is kept secret
from my sight
in the future
mind dictates to them
to keep up with my
wildly frantic flailing
how lovely
roses aren't insane
they demonstrate,
remind,
me of the sanity
i am
without a future
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