After 30 years of growing, I am no taller than a flower. It’s a very tall flower, but it’s still a flower—and I am a man. A fully grown man. A man who has planted, watered, and cut flowers. A man who purchases flowers and gives them to women of his choosing. A man who is expected to live 142 times longer than the average flower. A man. A fully grown man. A partly grown flower. I may as well be on my knees. I am 6 feet tall. My legs are short and my eyes are small. My head stands no taller than this flower. A flower that grew up in a season. After 30 years of growing, I stand no taller than a flower. A man. A flower.
“A flower that grew up in a season.”
—Emma Rooksby