sunflowers watch me in a distant dream. if i close my eyes, sometimes, this is all i see. growing in between temporary homes, violent abodes. but found with grace, you hand, lost in light, a golden sun, leaking through the leaves. lighting your veins, drenched in a youthful prime, the most golden sun shines on kindred spirits together in mind. my garden it grows in the middle of a street. the traffic waits for your hands to run through them, but we keep laughing, until we are out of breath, with their seeds now popping, like the buttons from your past. you struggle to fit into older skin. it rips, too thin. we sew it back together. it grows now thicker, strengthened with the backbones we built, we protect, we reflect. in hopes, of change. in hopes that whatever love we bring, we may exchange. the sun does not always shine this softly and hearts do not always beat so kindly. and so i watch, them watch me, in my distant dream. this dream i am living only in my memory.