a flower blooms steadily in love:
desiring for sun to gaze upon its every part
yearning for dew to slide slowly over each curve
at the peak of its love, each petal arches so strongly
that it breaks free of everything and goes on
~
what sun shines here, a dusty lamp;
what morning wet, a mere drop
tell me, if i break free,
will you place a palm underneath and carry me?
saara 