i wonder at the flower cut

at the stem, whose unresponsive

sheath of bloom's pulled inward.

how longing dies of patience.

her head dipped in sunlight with

imperceptible touches of fade--

magnified green stub in limp water.

my melting fingertip upon her curling

petals, raising her chin for a moment

there.

we exchange all we sourly miss, windows

away--with what shines through.