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The daffodils

Poem by Millie Hatfield-Grossova (she/her)

The daffodils

Photo: Andrea Tummons / Unsplash

In the garden again,
And you say the daffodils are budding
The snowdrops as well.
Touch your fingers to the crook of my elbow,
Ask if I’m really okay.

I sit on the grass and tell you the sun is lovely
While you rub lotion over my collarbones
Drift your fingers by my mouth.

I tell you that this is what I’ll miss:
You and the sun
And the roses that overgrow the courtyard
White stained with red.

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