Unbelievable.
Your little Flower has somehow moved,
appearing, blooming, in another window --
your perfect little Flower that never seemed to bloom.
You've watered it, nurtured it, tended to it for months and years,
but it never seemed to bloom --
only a little white Bud stood in your little clay pot.
Yet now, behind that layer of glass, in that strange, dark, room,
it shows off its petals proudly.
And it's beautiful.
The petals themselves... pure and pearlescent and broad,
the centre a dark cluster that resembles an eye,
an eye that stares back and mocks.
And, in its new and ornate pot, it stands tall
and spreads out its impossibly lush leaves and slender stalks
and greedily absorbs all sunlight...
...which causes your other flowers to
lose their colours and
close and shrink and
slowly you turn your attention away and
instead keep staring at your Flower that isn't yours and
you stare through that layer of glass and
you stare for days and nights yet it never seems to close or wilt and
in fact it seems to bloom larger every time that shadowy Figure waters it.
and what about that Figure!
Some kind of divine gardener he must be
to bloom your little Flower,
to bathe in the sweetness of the blossomed Flower,
a sweetness contained behind that layer of glass.
Whatever. You begin to feel ill.
It'll only be a seedling, if it weren't for me,
You tell yourself, staring at it still,
ignoring the magical properties of that Figure,
which would surely render that untrue.
Whatever,
Your Little Flower is finally in bloom.
Now all you have to do is try to accept
that your favourite Flower only exists
behind that layer of glass,
and all that remains in your poems is the little white Bud.
-- 04/10/2026
Theme : Love
Image source: https://sites.google.com/view/hypotography/by-series/series-4/da-nang-vietnam?authuser=0 (Hypotography)