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At 3 AM one night while walking by myself I saw some daffodils
and looked at one: its quiet petals attached to a distant
streetlamp. I wondered if it was stiff from the abrupt cold
and then I felt the urge to lie down next to it. It's like the time
I saw a red-haired girl walking across a parking lot
and when she bent her head down I felt like crying
but I didn't cry and I didn't lie down I kept walking
I kept walking and I thought "Fuck I don't even like daffodils
why would I want to lie down next to one" but its immobile
yellow teacup of a mouth looked like a feeling I once had.
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