I’ve never bought flowers to give at a party or to place at my own table’s center as a symbol of the hopeful impermanence of my domestic ways, but maybe I should! Maybe I should be a bright one, coat always lint-rolled, delighted at invitations, smiling when she crosses every threshold. Maybe I should attend more weddings. Maybe I should love whatever flower is from farthest away. Maybe I should love more. But I can’t help it—I want to give you fifty balloons attached to strings instead of ribbons. I want to watch you float above every town until you find one you really like. I want you to be happy, but I want you to be happy over there.
Ivy Grimes has an MFA from the University of Alabama and currently lives near DC. Her writing has appeared in FRiGG, Salt Hill, South Dakota Review, DIAGRAM, Weave, and elsewhere.