Moriah Brown is a poet, fiction writer, and full-time student at Syracuse University. Her poetry has been published in the Cosmic Daffodil Journal, Alchemy and Miracles Anthology (Gilbert and Hall Press), and Sequoia Speaks. She is from Fort Worth, Texas, and loves writing, reading, and her cat Nala.

Gardens

Here I have cultivated a perfect garden— perfect!
The roses are bursting from their stems, ferns of electric green
giving shade to the beetles and ladybugs that navigate their huge world.
The garden wall is tall and strong, giving me respite from the world
on racing afternoons or dark nights. It’s so beautiful.
I want you to see it.
I made it just for you.
I collected moments and stored them there, fall nights by a bonfire,
dappled sunlight against my skin,
smiling at strangers in an airport,
I captured these things in a snapshot
and kept them.
And I thought about everything— everything you’d ever want to talk about, I thought about life and death
and morality
and truth,
I thought about how strange that billboard is, how excited race cars make me feel,
how space exploration is wasteful,
how I know now I want children
because I want to live,
how I am terrified of being selfish
but at my root I am
because I want you
I want you
I want you
I want you to see this garden and gasp
with delight
and lose yourself with me in it.
And is that too much to ask?
I want you
I want you
I want you—
I said I wouldn’t but I do.
I want the trees and flowers you’ve grown in your own landscape to form
a new topography with mine.
Wouldn’t that be gorgeous?