I mapped onto my body so I might always be lost.
― Traci Brimhall
Lost its bloom...
Only one dark iris
Remains of June.
It stands forlorn
bereft of petals,
I lift it to my lips
And kiss the stubble.
It seems dramatic
This gesturing
Perhaps a pledge
Of faith in spring;
But I hope when I
Have lost my sparkle
You'll still see yourself
In these dark scribbles.