The forget-me-nots
That you planted at my gate last night
Bloomed this morning.
Small, but deeply-bedded,
Periwinkle, gentian, wine-centered.

They grow asymmetrically:
Three on the left (a perfect triad)
Planted painstakingly;
On the right,
A single, royal blossom distinct as a tattoo
Bordered by a scattering of anemic lavender,
Last-picks, left-overs, culls--
Grouped carelessly, yet diligently sown.

So, today finds me reaping
The fruits of your nocturnal labors.
Gently caressing and pressing each fragile flower
Into my passive earth-flesh.
Wondering . . . why (in light of my love for you),
That you chose to plant
Forget-me-nots?