i once knew a girl who planted steel bullets
on her chest—a rib cage shattered, all blood-
soaked & corrupted lungs. they were hollow
spaces she tried to fill / with copper & gunpowder,
waited for them to grow into a garden of orchids
but they never did. so she dug out these bullets
& planted seeds of hope instead & out of the once
hollow space / a fragile flower / a mimosa / s l o w l y
blooms. she may not be as splendid as an orchid
but is as darling as the morning / for it is a reminder
of the first light / shining after the long & dark night.