Venus Flytrap

The Bloemenmarkt in Amsterdam
is a haven for bees
and was for us too,
lounging in the smells of
flowers you had seen before
and I had only heard of.

I bought you a wooden tulip,
knowing that
you hated gifted flowers
because they all wilted
under human care
and you wanted to experience them
in their natural beauty.

You bought me
a Venus flytrap in a can
that I was to plant
and tend to
and grow all on my own.

We went home two weeks later
after traversing the lowlands of Europe,
our relationship finally
running thin,
the cracks appearing
with every new bus trip we took.

Like the flower I gave you
you soon turned wooden

And the plant you gave me
never grew.

It’s a year later now
and you are nowhere to be seen,
a distant seed in far away soil
planting new roots in climates
more familiar to you.

And I have found someone
who gifts me with a Venus flytrap
that was already growing.

And that has made all the difference.