All that time, waiting to bloomLeón, Raina J.
Bathed in orange water,
she blossoms from her mouth,
alstroemeria, orange rose,
bupleurum, orchid, lily.
They unfold slowly,
the buds open one
after another
in the silent music
of wonder. Her
palms became rocky.
Even they have broken
to glory in orange bloom.
Mother is garden,
life in stillness.
Kiss her lips,
light as the bee
searching for nectar.
Burst, woman.
Alright, the songs die,
but the color music
plays on. Play on.
She flowers her eyes.
I can’t remember
the shade if it’s not light.
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