I have to insist.
Will you forgive me?
I was trying to think of love and flowers.
And I was surprised.
Saw love plucking flowers.
To pluck is an euphemism for killing.
Even if out of love.
Or out of love.
An ugly verb.
I changed the subject and the object.
Of what I was thinking.
Now kindness is a vase.
You looked at my brand new gift.
You looked at me.
My eyes followed your look.
I was dizzy there looking at me.
You went away.
I looked your way.
Down at the vase.
And found your love.
Not your kindness.
