Conium maculatum / Poison Hemlock on the Flatirons Vista Trail in Boulder, CO
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Conium maculatum / Poison Hemlock on the Flatirons Vista Trail in Boulder, CO

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We, then called the Noroit.
No rain for her, or very little. Rain brings slugs. No, rather the cold, blizzard wind from the North.
The head of the wind was far away, and crossing the city on my way home from work was like.. Biking in an oven (with convection aha), but we tried to put on a good face.
The head of the wind was far away but an old treacherous breeze still blew in places. I was inspired, and I blew the sacred words into its spirit.
Yâall I have a MASSIVE poison hemlock growing in my yard. I havenât measured them but I think theyâre 9â tall. I canât even reach the top.
What Iâm saying is donât tempt me.
Okay so! I have a bit of my original writing (ft. my character Allan and my girlfriendâs character Conium) and Iâve been wanting to share it! So this is it!
âWhatâs your favorite candy?â Conium blurted out of the blue one day. Allan looked up, confused, obviously, because in all honesty, he wasnât exactly subtle about his favorite candy. (Cue flashback to the time he stood on a table screeching about how KitKats were superior to any other chocolates)
âWhat? You know that already, Con.â Conium shrugged, kicking his feet up into Allanâs lap.Â
âYeah, maybe I do, but I just want to make sure. KitKats, right?â Allan nodded. âYup.â
The two sat in silence for a little while, Allanâs gaze skimming over the novel he was reading, mostly thinking rather than intaking the words. But Conium didnât say anything else for the rest of the day concerning his small comment, so Allan chose to stew in confusion rather than bring it up again.
~~
âQuick--I need your favorite flowers.âÂ
Allan tore his gaze away from the sheet music he was attempting to read, but failing miserably at. âOrchids?â
âThanks.âÂ
âWhy?â Conium looked up from his laptop, confused. âWhy what?â
Allan shrugged, looking away. âNevermind.â The confusion still ate away at his mind, but he put it to rest. Answers would probably surface eventually, right?
~~
âRandom question?â Conium said, startling Allan, who was laying across the couch while he did psychology homework. âYeah?â
âWhatâs your favorite color?â Allan laughed.Â
âWhat is it with you and asking me questions like this? This is the third time.â He said, ismiling. âBut itâs yellow, since you asked. Yellow or blue.â
Conium smiled, scribbling it down on his hand with a small pen that was laying on the desk. âGot it.â
~~
The random questions were beginning to confuse Allan more than he thought was possible, but nevertheless, he answered them all, ranging from âwhat size hoodie do you prefer?â (XL, it flopped over his hands and hung comfortable to his frame) to âwhatâs your favorite love song?â (Always by Panic! At The Disco, Something To Believe In from Newsies, or You Matter To Me from Waitress), even to âwhatâs the most cheesy, cliche place I could take you on a date? That you would enjoy?â (walking through Hyde Park at night, dramatically. Because Allan lived for dramatics.).Â
Though it confused him, what even began to scare him is the fact that Conium wouldnât say anything about what he was planning.Â
Allan sighed, placing his bag of books on the ground outside their flat, and unlocked the door.
Immediately, the scent of something burning alerted him to a presence inside the flat. Allan rushed inside, leaving the books from the library outside, and was met with Conium, covered in flour, cake mix and frosting--all around a mess.
âWhat⌠what did you do?â Allan asked, grinning, to which Conium groaned.Â
âI failed.â The taller boy sighed, dusting a bit of batter out of his hair. âMiserably.â
âIn what, might I ask?â
Conium stepped aside, and Allan was immediately greeted with an abundance of⌠random things. But all things that Conium had mentioned?
Some orchids tied with a yellow ribbon rested in a vase, next to an overly large hoodie (also yellow!) that had a small pile of KitKats resting on top of it. Allan looked up, confused. âItâs not my birthday, thoughâŚ?âÂ
Coniumâs expression faltered. âYou--you forgot.â He couldnât help but bite back a small laugh. âAdonis, youâve been talking about today since December.â
Oh, shit. âItâs Valentineâs day, isnât it?â Allan asked meekly, and Conium laughed. âAnd?â
âAnd our anniversary. Oh, God, how did I manage to forget?â Conium laughed once more, but his grin faded when he saw the look on Allanâs face. âDid I do something wrong?â
Allan shook his head. âNo! No. Itâs just⌠I feel like I didnât do enough for you. Because you deserve so much more than just⌠you working so hard and me not getting you anything.â Conium smiled, taking Allanâs hand.Â
âI donât care if I deserve more or not. I donât need all the extra stuff, and I donât need you to go out of your way.â Conium said softly, tracing his free hand through Allanâs raven hair. âYouâve already given me the best gift ever, darling.â
Allanâs face flushed, but he ducked his head away. âWhat can I get you, though? I⌠still want to get you something at least.â
âA hug?â Conium whispered, and Allan obliged, wrapping his arms around his boyfriendâs stomach and burying his face in the crook of Coniumâs neck.Â
âHappy Valentineâs Day, Allan.â Conium said, and Allan murmured his reply, muffled by Coniumâs shirt.Â
Heâs super smug about somethinâ I wonder what. Gift for @ciraeus !Â
Character: Conium, who is theirs`

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đż Conium maculatum (Conium maculatum)
Medicinal plant with documented traditional uses.
Yerbateca.org botanical encyclopedia with PubMed citations
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