with that smile
let's skip the pleasantries --
take me to where your courage begins
and the fear that haunts
the shackles
    still carrying or falling away
tell me the story of the flower
    you saw today
and the decomposing tree
tell me of the butterflies
of the colors that penetrated your retina
    and made it's way through your body to please your skin
what are your thoughts and feelings
of the shameful practicality of architectural right angles?
how would you redesign the room that we're in?
or, would you rather
    burn it down
    and sit down
    in the dirt together?