I am not a Tweet.
I am sequential and chaptered.
You can't scroll to the good part.
I am not a plastic flower.
I am a bag of seeds,
and the picture on the front is only a hired artist's notion.
I am a vine that's been winding for years.
I'm not what you're used to.
I am rare, and thorned.
I have a bed, but you're not invited.
Grapes aren't wine fresh off the vine.
I am poetry, writing itself.
I am gorgeous blooms.
I will be these things seen or unseen, by sun or by moon.