Flowers That Eat

Stone walls crumble beneath the roots,  

flowers climb with teeth on broken stone.  

Petals like mouths, soft but ravenous.  

They drink the cracks, spit dust as bones.  

Sunlight feeds them hollow, searing red,  

green tongues unravel secrets long buried.  

They devour the silence of walls, gnawing,  

turning ash to whispers, turning stone to air.  

Each leaf a prayer for the lost, unspoken.  

Their hunger blooms as walls break open.