the seeds you had planted

in this garden of mine

grew wild –

strangled me from the inside out

roots nestled in soft flesh

in search for some quench of thirst

but summer comes

and i down sunlight by the gallon

and let the petals pick my palette

in wake of the jet trail

across the blue blue sky

will you find the frangipani bloom

in the pages of your journal

and think of that last summer

when you called me to make you mine?

Written by Iman Ayesha