sweet, slender, beautiful
the words he picks from the meadow
carefully and purposefully wrapping them in paper
he carries them to the doorstep of my heart
lays them softly on the mat
and knocks on the door

the paint is crisp, the knocker untouched until now
the whole house wakes, the sound reverberating throughout
i scoop up the flowers, arrange them in a vase
place them in the biggest room with the most light,
only the best for my treasure, my first bouquet