The way you hold all the petals in place
because the center of the daisy needs some assistance shows the greatest of all strengths.
Letting me not burst into flames when my pores are seeking fire and heat the most is the ultimate control.

You possess much power.

Though orchids are something you love in the color blue, your eyes change from green to hazel with your mood, never to be the lilacs nor the dalias.

I could find your face in a pile of millions of pieces of shattered glass that the artists claim to be mosaic, however I am no artist and neither are you but the sound your keys make as they dangle upstairs and the silly grin you make, showing your teeth when you are trying to be funny.. You hate black ink but here I am anyway and I love you
to the moon
and beyond
and back again.