I’ve yet to find a place for you.
At first I threw you on my bed
and almost forgot about you
until I found you lying there the next day
with morning all over your face.
You smelled like mint
and I would have left you on the pillow for an evening snack
but you grew too large
taking root into my thoughts.
I then moved you into my heart
and I was going to plant you there
and water you every morning with good thoughts
and on days with ardor and dry throats
twice a day,
but you turned a hungry face towards the sun
and left me looking at your stem.
I might have to put you back in the garden -
the soil of my heart has too few minerals to spare.