I dreamt amongst the wildflowers,
their sugar scent wafted through my brain.
I asked them, "What are your favorite colors?"
They replied, "The colors right before and after
oxygen meets the blood inside your veins."
Oh, I thought, that must look pretty,
and I think their torn earlobes must have heard me.
The ground beneath my skin was warm,
and beneath that still the earth grew warmer,
but every scientist knows that.
Absentmindedly, I ripped up grass in between my fingers,
and the wildflowers screamed, "Ah!"
I guess it must have stung the same way it does
when someone plucks a hair.
Then I whispered amongst the stems of flowers, "Will you forgive me?"
but I think my breath just made their leaves and petals shiver.
And after some pure, imaginary silence,
in which nobody said anything,
I gathered myself and went home.