every boy is a flower boy

i swear they've all been blessed by monet

and when they're small with tiny fists

they pick wildflower and weed bouquets

and keep them in their little window sills

and dream in pastels

but when they're grown

they quickly learn that they

can only give flowers away

a tragedy the likes of narcissus

has only experienced in his neverending woodland decay

so give boys flowers

it's as simple as that

and watch as they blush the color of pink morning skies

and dianthus superbus

watch as they accept them with bigger hands

fingers sliding across buttery petals

remembering what it felt like

to admire something like this

tuck a flower behind their ears

and they shall press them in their favorite books

kiss them on their supple cheeks

and watch as they grow just a little closer towards the sun