But I will still change the water
I do not care for flowers
I will rearrange them
Of course, I will - you gave them to me
I sit and paint them
And the day blissfully droops to eve
And I think: anger never betrayed me.

But all my criticisms and objections
Fall limp to an empty night
Please, speak.
Provoke me, oppose me. Interrupt even.
My principles hold no power
If they cannot fight you.

I love the simple silhouette
Of your pesky little spirit.
Please, speak.