Petal Lips

Anthophobia – fear of flowers



Their bursts of color are misleading

Friendly and inviting

Look closely

For those petals form perfect mouths

Open and looming

Waiting to consume you

Enticing you in with their sweet aroma

We have placed so much diplomacy and faith

In those smooth and elegant petals

The grace of the stems

We bouquet them into a mini mob

Of narcissistic splendor

Their little mouths waiting to slowly chew

Away our souls

Piece by piece

As we move in close

To breathe in their sweet scent for one brief moment

For that is all it takes

For you to lose yourself

Lose every memory

Around their pistils

Their stigma is our weakness

We are all prey to something

Maybe our predator banks on our shallow side

And truly we are the weak and fragile ones


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