Frangipani

Your scent, takes me right back there.

That place so devastating that it doesn't seem real. Like a bad dream that you can’t ever wake up from. Meters away lies water that is too dangerous to swim in, lizard monsters and creatures with stingers than can end your life in minutes with a single touch. On land, a harsh environment, blood red soil and heat that makes you question if you dried yourself properly after that morning shower.

I hate that I love you, and it's difficult to allow other flowers to blossom in my world. I can't stand not knowing when you're going to open up and flower for me, or even at all. I wait, I wait... The wait seems interminable, and then out of nowhere you appear at almost perfect intervals of having moved on or let go. Then there I am again, waiting for another winter and spring then winter passes again.

Despite these hardships, I cannot stop being infatuated with your strength and beauty, you amaze me. Even though this is not my home, I cannot let go of the fact that it could be, despite all these challenges. I’m not in control of anything and that petrifies me more than you will ever know. I know where you are but you feel hopelessly lost to me. I feel totally alone when I'm close to you and I lose all my inner strength and become helpless, less of a man. Inadequate and needy, not traits real men can carry himself through life with. Just sitting and waiting, praying and hoping that its not reality that you’re not in my flowerbed even though you’re within my reach, but painfully out of my grasp.

The spring is coming soon my friend.

Maybe it will be a great year.