Jessy Edwards
Gratitude for flowers
❖ How, in this week's fresh flower delivery, there were two long stems that Google could not identify, and in the morning they were perky like antennae, so I was able to take a selfie looking like a strange bug.
❖ How we were reprimanded for taking a photo of a bubblegum-pink flower over a neighbor’s fence, and steps down the road another neighbor offered us one to take home from her own garden. It was a giant, crinkled lantern of a thing, its buds as large as babies’ fists.
❖ Because you don’t pick flowers from the street anymore, as you know I think they should be left for everyone to enjoy.
❖ Because a quesadilla is a cheese flower.
❖ Because, on the L train, I told you I needed something to anchor myself to when I felt lost, and you understood completely, and suggested quite rightly that my anchor be a quesadilla.
❖ Because you made me an elaborate quesadilla in bed two nights ago when we got home exhausted from the concert and I realized I’d bled in my favorite undies.
❖ Because you took the day off to care for me while I had my period even though it was completely unnecessary and made me laugh by saying, “We have our period.”
❖ How flowers look like vaginas sometimes.
❖ How right now, as I write, you are doing a flower arrangement.
❖ How when I turned up at your house in February with my extremities frozen you ironed towels to make them hot and pressed them to my fingers and toes and nose over and over until they had de-thawed.
❖ Because when I thought my uncle told me one gummy was equivalent to one puff you held it together while I lost my legs even though you had twice as much.
❖ Because you looked after me that one time I took mushrooms and laughed so hard I cried as I was terrified of not being in control.
❖ Because both of our fathers were addicted to drugs and when we realized we laughed as though realizing we had the same favorite color.
❖ Because your favorite color is blue but not for eyes.
❖ Because my favorite color is purple, the color of scabs.
❖ Because you told me not to worry about the scars, that my body is strong, it will heal.
❖ Because you picked up milk for our morning coffee.
❖ Because you tell me to block my ears before you do a snot rocket.
❖ Because you knew I wanted to pray so you prayed.
❖ Because together, we are learning the names of flowers.
❖ Because this list is not finished.
❖ How we were reprimanded for taking a photo of a bubblegum-pink flower over a neighbor’s fence, and steps down the road another neighbor offered us one to take home from her own garden. It was a giant, crinkled lantern of a thing, its buds as large as babies’ fists.
❖ Because you don’t pick flowers from the street anymore, as you know I think they should be left for everyone to enjoy.
❖ Because a quesadilla is a cheese flower.
❖ Because, on the L train, I told you I needed something to anchor myself to when I felt lost, and you understood completely, and suggested quite rightly that my anchor be a quesadilla.
❖ Because you made me an elaborate quesadilla in bed two nights ago when we got home exhausted from the concert and I realized I’d bled in my favorite undies.
❖ Because you took the day off to care for me while I had my period even though it was completely unnecessary and made me laugh by saying, “We have our period.”
❖ How flowers look like vaginas sometimes.
❖ How right now, as I write, you are doing a flower arrangement.
❖ How when I turned up at your house in February with my extremities frozen you ironed towels to make them hot and pressed them to my fingers and toes and nose over and over until they had de-thawed.
❖ Because when I thought my uncle told me one gummy was equivalent to one puff you held it together while I lost my legs even though you had twice as much.
❖ Because you looked after me that one time I took mushrooms and laughed so hard I cried as I was terrified of not being in control.
❖ Because both of our fathers were addicted to drugs and when we realized we laughed as though realizing we had the same favorite color.
❖ Because your favorite color is blue but not for eyes.
❖ Because my favorite color is purple, the color of scabs.
❖ Because you told me not to worry about the scars, that my body is strong, it will heal.
❖ Because you picked up milk for our morning coffee.
❖ Because you tell me to block my ears before you do a snot rocket.
❖ Because you knew I wanted to pray so you prayed.
❖ Because together, we are learning the names of flowers.
❖ Because this list is not finished.
Jessy Edwards is a New Zealand writer living in New York City. She was a Brooklyn Poets fellow in 2020, and Brooklyn Poets ‘Poet of the Week’ in 2021. Her work has appeared in or is forthcoming in Voicemail Poems, The Red Wheelbarrow and Antics Publications. You can find Jessy on Instagram at @jessyedwardswrites.