jasmine, gardenia, and crepe myrtle

the whole city smells like these three. i get drunk on it. my lungs are filled up, biking to work, biking home. a different mood of them:

Flower

Paul Celan

The stone.
The stone in the air, which I followed.
Your eye, as blind as the stone.

We were
hands,
we baled the darkness empty, we found
the word that ascended summer:
flower.

Flower - a blind man's word.
Your eye and mine:
they see
to water.

Growth.
Heart wall upon heart wall
adds petals to it.

One more word like this word, and the hammers
will swing over open ground.