A Flower Has Grown

Behind the rigid curve of my forehead a flower has grown. Petals are blooming beneath the bone. My days, my pains, and all my love are tucked inside the folds. Pink and white and gray, and contained. Fed by the light that fills my eyes. Fed by touch and sound. The universe in a flower. The universe, in me, bound. And so I feel. I ache. I glow. And I'm sure I'll never know how can a universe blossom and fade? and where will this universe go? Lauren