03; VINES ACROSS MY RIBCAGE

each time you say sorry
you bring me a flower
a rose from the stray bush
across the diner
we used to go to 
on days when
the world felt too large
and us too small.
(isn't it still the same?)
a bunch of jasmines
from the tree
we marked our initials on.
(sharing the same second-last alphabet)
a marigold from the park
we spent lazy summer days in.
(flowers, flowers, flowers)
and each time i eat them up.
the rose thorns cutting my throat
like the apostrophes i forget to put,
the petals overflowing my lungs
like the champagne
too bitter for our taste
choking on petals, i say,
it's fine i forgive you
(it's still the same)