I hold a stem in my left
Hand,
I hold petals In my right hand
Hand,
Do I release them to
Fall,
Descent,
Crushed,
Under Foot, no longer whole
Do I try to fix
What was once
One
But now
Two
Parts not whole, separated
But do they wish
To be as they were
Do they fight what was
To be separate
Will mean they
Wilt,
Beauty,
Faded,
Or will they merge as before
Being both separate
But together,
A whole
Beauty as one, not separate like before.