Garden

tit

Flowers grow taller every day
Trees become greener
As the garden in the heart of spring looks
A spectrum of vibrant interwoven colors

I too grow like an inflorescence
My face becoming darker with an earthly outgrowth
As I become conscious of my own
Manliness on the bathroom mirror.

I shove my innocence and the residue of mango seed
Hopscotch out and caress the stubs on my mandible
And chin. I’m growing my own man-locks
And soon I will be my topiary master.

And the garden is where birds gather.
A fresh faced lad looks at himself
In the mirror and wonders, when will spring usher in wings
Of a cinnamon-breasted tit?

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