When people talk to me
They open up themselves.
Each petal a tale, a memory,
A life.
De-railed by acceptance
They find themselves unfurling to reveal
the worm
Inside their pollen
The speckled taint curled within their seed.
A sign of imperfection
A weakness
Insecurity
To me it adds to their beauty
It makes them seem
complete.

Blossom before me,
And you'll never lose my love.