Bloom in Reverse Quotes
Bloom in Reverse
by
Teresa Leo33 ratings, 3.79 average rating, 5 reviews
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Bloom in Reverse Quotes
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“Not roses or carnations, chrysanthemums or tulips.
For her, Gerbera daisies, not because
of the 30 species, the fifth-most cut flower
in the world, their heads perfect halos of dazzling colors
that draw even the darkest of minds,
but because each flower is made of hundreds
of smaller flowers, and so there is no single bloom
that provides more chance,
extends the game of He Loves Me,
He Loves Me Not. Compelling is the urge
to work around the center,
dismantle a thing of beauty into the least
of its parts. How it finishes depends
on sheer luck, a numbers game of odds and evens
that often ends badly: if I could,
I’d have planted a bed of flowers in her head
to elongate the game, increase her chances,
or hope that one sturdy bloom would seed
and take root, spawn continuous subdivisions
of itself to keep her plucking away
at a Möbius strip of a garden that would end
to begin again. But she only had the one flower.
With it, she climbed the tallest mountain
and looked out over the edge, her mind
tearing at the petals, each dark thought
a synapse, an impulse held and then released,
held and released, until only the stalk remained—
I might, I might not, I just might."
-"Suicide Is a Mind Stripping Petals off Flowers”
― Bloom in Reverse
For her, Gerbera daisies, not because
of the 30 species, the fifth-most cut flower
in the world, their heads perfect halos of dazzling colors
that draw even the darkest of minds,
but because each flower is made of hundreds
of smaller flowers, and so there is no single bloom
that provides more chance,
extends the game of He Loves Me,
He Loves Me Not. Compelling is the urge
to work around the center,
dismantle a thing of beauty into the least
of its parts. How it finishes depends
on sheer luck, a numbers game of odds and evens
that often ends badly: if I could,
I’d have planted a bed of flowers in her head
to elongate the game, increase her chances,
or hope that one sturdy bloom would seed
and take root, spawn continuous subdivisions
of itself to keep her plucking away
at a Möbius strip of a garden that would end
to begin again. But she only had the one flower.
With it, she climbed the tallest mountain
and looked out over the edge, her mind
tearing at the petals, each dark thought
a synapse, an impulse held and then released,
held and released, until only the stalk remained—
I might, I might not, I just might."
-"Suicide Is a Mind Stripping Petals off Flowers”
― Bloom in Reverse
