“hyacinths” poem by Alice Jiang ’19

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

hyacinths

blue bulbs open               flesh for a piteous pot

murmuring to be picked by the smartest taker

my hands a basket to catch rain from the sky

filled salt

i’m full-time at this job of being food,

with my heart bleeding so strong

they can smell it from the street

and when i say breathe me

i mean take every ounce of my being

uproot what’s left of me and leave nothing

for when the willing or the greedy come