I'm waiting for your heroic gesture

I’m waiting for your heroic gesture
Because I want to be as far as possible from you right now
And I can’t. Bring me your flowers
Pulled from in between the library books. I hope they rot slowly and the smell
Like rotting peaches never leaves your clothes. What am I supposed
To turn into. Where are your questions? I keep repeating butterfly but my chrysalis
Has never broken. I am waiting for you to say my name
And for it to break me.
I’m waiting for your heroic gesture
The elasticity of you in one place and me in another.
i swear the wooden planks of the bench are
white tiles. the little bones of
the flower shatter when you touch them. they are just
shadows in the light. do you understand these things? often,
I think not.