the sun and her flowers

The speaker reveals the trauma and sexual abuse from her past. Indeed, she describes the relationship she is grieving in the early chapters of the book in terms of abuse. In “addiction,” for instance, she states that she allowed her partner to “skin me to the bone” (27). His touch was “not kind” (27), but for her it was better than not having it at all. “I could take the abuse / I could not take the absence” (27). She realizes in this poem that the relationship was unhealthy and toxic; she also shows her awareness of the destructive nature of addiction. Another poem, this one consisting of just one line, shows her view of the brutal nature of her erstwhile partner: “you break women in like shoes” (28). There appear also to have been good things in the relationship, however, and she imagines in “questions” (46) that he mourned the loss of the relationship too and perhaps still thinks about her. In spite of the abuse, she makes it clear in this poem that at times they had an enjoyable sexual connection.

Several more incidents of rape or other forms of sexual abuse appear in the book. In “home” (68-71), the speaker recalls an incident in which she survived raped. It is not clear from the context whether the perpetrator was the man she recently broke up with, or whether the rape took place earlier than that and involved another man. Be that as it may, she describes the sexual assault explicitly: “you nailed my wrists to the ground / turned my breasts into bruised fruit” (69). The poem that begins with “at home that night” (76-77) seemingly refers to her attempt to put behind her an incident of sexual abuse that happened earlier that day, although the description is not as explicit as in the earlier poem. Rape is clear again, however, in “how can i verbalize consent as an adult if i was never taught to as a child” (90). She recalls, “when he climbed on top of me / every part of my body wanted to reject it / but I couldn’t say no to save my life.” She traces this inability to say no back to the corporal punishment that was inflicted on her as a child to force her into obedience. Since then, even many years later, she was unable to come up with any other response, whatever the situation.

She may also be referring to sexual abuse at an earlier point in her life in the untitled two-line poem, “parts of my body still ache / from the first time they were touched” (93). The line drawing below the poem shows a female form being touched by multiple hands in various areas of the body, including breasts and genital area. The various instances of trauma and sexual abuse detailed throughout the collection underscore the speaker's attempt to grow and love herself despite earlier feelings of shame and inadequacy she associated with the body. By taking ownership of her body and her thoughts, the speaker rejects giving her abusers power over both these things. In keeping with the imagery of flowers, toxic relationships and victimization fall away like dead leaves and allow the speaker to grow new life as both a survivor and a person continuously healing.

The bliss as well as the trials of romantic love feature prominently in the book. The speaker earnestly seeks partnership, but she has found that love is not always easy and can involve grief, loss, and pain as well as delight. Chapter 1 explores the problematic aspects of romantic love, while Chapter 4 celebrates a newfound love that feels right and thrills heart, mind, and body. The phrase “i love you” is on her tongue so often that sometimes she has to stop herself from saying it out loud, for fear that if she does so too often, it might “wear them [the words] down” (“i love you” [174]). In the act of love, she and her partner seem to become “one person” (“sex” [177]). Radiant in their mutual happiness, they are “two suns” (untitled poem beginning with “when you are” [183]), and the whole of nature celebrates with them: Flowers and trees bloom, and in an engaging if fanciful image, the salt in the ocean changes to sugar.

The speaker is not naïve, though. She knows she still has work to do to succeed in love in the long term. She got used to a tough, abrasive relationship, and this still affects the way she thinks of love and how she behaves toward a man she is involved with (“how do i welcome in kindness” [158]). She is, however, learning to grow into a different kind of love than she has known before, with someone who is kind and “sweet” (158) and able to express his emotions. In the poem titled “a gift,” the gift is defined as “a / man / who cries” (171) which is a contrast with her former love, who was colder in his manner than the current lover.

The speaker is also aware of the complexity and often unreliability of romantic love. Each time a new relationship begins, the person involved—she generalizes this with the use of the pronoun “you” rather than “I”—he or she rethinks what the notion of “the one” (that is, the one true love) actually means. A person is so sure that someone is “the one,” but then that relationship ends and the next candidate comes along, and he or she becomes “the one” (“a fresh love is a gift” [162]). In this view, romantic love and the quest for a soulmate are an evolving enterprise, subject to frequent revision and reevaluation.

Also important in any discussion of love is the notion of self-love. The speaker mentions this several times. Love will not work unless we “turn inward and learn / how to love ourselves in order to love other people” (“what love looks like” [32]). In “acceptance,” she realizes that since the longest relationship she has in life is with herself, it is time for her to

nurture intimacy

and love

with the person

I lie in bed with each night (108).

The speaker struggles to accept her own body and her physical appearance. This conflict goes back to early adolescence. When her body started to mature at the age of 12, she writes in “the art of growing,” she ceased to feel beautiful but instead began to feel “guilt and shame”; she decides, “i hate this body” (94-95). Much of her dislike is due to the crude attention she starts to attract from boys and men, although she tries not to let that affect her. She criticizes herself again in the poem that begins with “I am having a difficult time right now,” in which she compares her physical appearance unfavorably to others; she finds fault in particular with her face, “calling it ugly” (88), and thinking about how to fix the bags under her eyes and undergo surgical procedures for her nose. In “conversations with god,” she asks God why he created female sexual organs the way he did, leaving “a door / hanging / open between my legs,” which makes her feel “unfinished” (64). She links discomfort with her own body with the activity of the “trillion-dollar” beauty industry (224) that thrives by making women think they should always be working to enhance their appearance. The speaker feels this is something of a trick on the part of the industry. In “the lies they sell,” she writes of how she pursued the recommended “road to perfection” but then “their definition of beauty / suddenly changed” (222).

Her goal is to accept herself just the way she is. For example, she does not like the accepted practice of shaving body hair, which she was forced to undergo even as a girl. Now as an adult, she says, “why do I punish my body / for being exactly as it’s meant to be” (“basement aesthetician” [80-81]). Also, her complaint in “conversations with god” is countered with acceptance of her sexuality in the one-line poem, “I want to honeymoon myself” (107), the line drawing for which shows a woman masturbating. Finally, in Chapter 5, the speaker expresses a full appreciation and acceptance of her physical self in “thank you” (209), as well as in “it is so full here in myself” (244), underscoring her growth from the beginning of the collection to the end.