They may look to the sky or to their reflections
in windows and water but I am only looking at you.
The way petals fall into the sky when the wind
pulls them apart or how colour seeps
into daisies has never intrigued me. Why would it
when I could look at you, the timeless flower
who takes language and turns it into a colour?
You never die no matter what the weather is,
blooming and blooming.
You make me try to blossom and become beautiful
even if I am wilted and ugly.
You see me as a flower too beautiful to leave
behind when it's you that is the beautiful one.
You're the flower I pick every time I see it
and somehow you never die
because your beauty is too intense to allow
your colours to fade,
so I'll keep you tucked behind my ear
and I'll sing with the swans
because your beauty is reflecting on me.