I found you again, flower thief.
Except this time I am the bud,
And the one you clipped is dead.
Let me teach you how to live again.

It looks like dancing to the
Moon at 3 AM and watching
Lightning illuminate the sky,
Listening to music that lifts
That feeling inside - higher
Than the goosebumps on flesh
As rain soaks into skin
And feeling is the only whim.