vase.
your fingers;
so delicate
and fragile;
cool to the touch
as i allow
my fingertips
to trail down
the surface
of your smooth skin;
almost like porcelain
to the touch,
you calmed me,
just being in the same vicinity as you
made me suddenly feel
overcome with a sense
of serenity,
of peace
and because of this,
i couldn't get enough of you;
i had never in my life
seen anything i regarded
as remotely close to
as beautiful as you were,
causing me to place you
on the highest of pedestals,
an insurmountable target
with which i used
to compare
every other person;
and none of them did;
the way
you complemented a room
made me have to compliment you
for i have not once
come across something
so pure,
an untainted piece of art
that i fear
will leave my life
sooner than i'd like,
for,
by a stroke
of awful luck,
you'd been dropped
many a time
by undeserving people
that didn't recognize
the priceless masterpiece
they once had
to call their own,
leaving you
to pick up the shattered pieces of yourself
and put them all back together
and while there are scars,
permanent indents and grooves
endlessly reminiscing previous pain,
i am not deterred in my quest
to show the whole world
what a magnificent specimen you are.
and because of this,
i vow to cradle you,
to protect you,
and to love you;
and i'll hope, every week,
that you like the flowers
i got for you to hold
(they glimmer well
with the hint of your eyes)
when the light
from the early morning sun
illuminates every corner
of those daisies,
and more importantly,
the beautiful vaselike angel
caressing them
as if she's the only thing
keeping them from
the rest of the world;
the parts of reality
that don't notice,
that don't realize
the significance
and the simple beauty
inside of both of them;
which is why, darling
i understand
with your broken past
you fear falling apart
but i promise
to keep you safe
after all,
you're my work of heart.