I step out of the shower and elucidate the bathroom mirror.
Staring at my naked body, I notice that something is peaking through my chest.
Growing before my eyes, I watch the foliage surround my breasts.
My once best friend, now lover, steps out of the shower.
He walks over, "Hey, beautiful."
Standing behind me, he kisses my neck; I feel the green expand with each touch.
A delicate red rose bloomed below his nose.
"You smell too clean; let's get you dirty again..."
He lifts my arms in the air, feeling my outline and bringing chills and more leaves to my body.
He turns me around, and leans me against the counter, oblivious to the old brick building I've become.
Oblivious, that is, until he feels the vine on my arm travels down my hand and onto his.
It is there on his strong wrist that another blood red rose blooms, like a corsage.
"Bree, I thought we agreed..."
I turn away, as a teardrop was absorbed by the ivy and grew further down to my legs, into the floor.
He tries to release his hands from mine, but the vine only grows tighter.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper.
"Me, too."
The rose on his wrist is becoming limp.
We watch as its petals fall to the floor.
I try to hold back its source of food, but the tears fall despite my struggle.
Attempting to smother the one last thriving rose over my heart, I press my body against his, but our closeness only causes it to bloom further.
