"Floriculture" by Elane Kim

Floriculture

Thinking back to that morning, he had been complaining, because it was April, and April is when the trees collectively decide to shed their feathers. More accurately, he was complaining because he had an allergy to pollen. He’d always hated springtime, flowers, rain. The day he died, he left a voice message on my phone. In it, he said, I’ll be back by dinner, and I’ll be hungry.
Some nights, I see his blue face, his unwound body. Those nights, he calls my name. Those nights, he is hungry.
When I dream, I paint him with my own skin. I shatter into petals and make mulch of my bones. I ask him what he would like for dinner. When he recoils, I leave flowers for him to drown in: blue hyacinths, as if to say, I am still here; lotus flowers, as if to say, I am waiting for you to come back; white clovers, as if to say nothing at all.

Elane Kim

Elane Kim is a high-school student who enjoys chemistry, rainy days, and most kinds of bread. Her writing has been recognized by the Alliance for Young Artists & Writers and can be found in Blue Marble Review and Rust + Moth. She is very happy to meet you!

Headshot: Ann Kim

Photo Credit: Staff