You Reopened My Flower

Just when I thought that I'd passed from the fall to the winter of my life, you reopened a flower that had withered, dried up and was on its way to being potpourri in somebody's bowl.

You brought my flower back to life and it didn't take anything but you being yourself: that big, full boisterous laugh that tickles my spirit with it's melodiousness; those magic hands that knead away all signs of stress and worry and make me melt like butter set on high in the microwave. The conversation that ebbs and flows like water flowing in a stream, and last but not least, the naturalness and comfortableness of just being in your space.

You brought my flower back to life and made me feel like a woman who is wanted, needed, appreciated, and desirable. I felt the stalk erect itself again, the petals unwithered and regained their scent after a spray of your passion and fire, those petals gathered around the bulb, the center of my flower and once again after years of being closed off and withered, my flower bloomed and became the sunflower I always imagined it could be.

Thank you for resurrecting my flower and putting it back in bloom and making me once again feel like a self-possessed woman, confident in her sexiness, desirability, and beauty. I'm glad you broke the spell and brought it all back to life. There couldn't have been a better gardener to knead and water the soil in the core of my soul and being.


You reopened my flower.