The flower will think itself a stem.
The flower will cling to roots—and listen to them.
The flower will fear the light
And let the message of the stem ignite
Fear and trepidation, as the role
Of different parts confuses the whole.
The way your stem sways
Is a boon to my days.
The gathering your roots do
Is surely a benefit to you.
But I want your flower to see
How beautiful your flower is to me.
Your flower, in the light,
Is better than the root and its night.
Your face is the reason for nothing but clothes,
The reason for every root and every stem—
Your face is much better than those.
Your beautiful face embarrasses them.