Rob Plath


unbuckling flowers 


my demons
throw
body bags
over the
sunflowers
behind the skin
of my temples
& cackling
seal them up

& i weep
to see
my flowers
struggling
to unbuckle
their bent
stems

& i wait
sometimes
for what seems
like weeks

for the dark
bags to split
& flatten
into beds
of climbing
golden faces

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