Flowers, Winter Flowers

daffodils beside the bed, lilies
greet me when I get home, one bud
realized
bursting

                                            itself

with its bawdy
fragrance of old bedrooms
lovers
hot springs we travelled
to, early
after the parties
and the blow
    in no mood

the flowers don’t sugarcoat, they speak a commiserative truth
the foot of snow
its quiet-truth self-tells


                [there has never been a flower like me]