I would trade all my words
For a quiet moment with you.
Does beauty need
To be described?
We all feel it when we see it,
A flower is a flower,
It is beautiful when it blooms.
Beauty doesn’t hide.
Pain hides.
It fixes itself in obscure spaces,
Deep in us.
Unlike a blooming flower
It needs to be described
To a fault.
Unlike a blooming flower,
Pain will be very much alive
When people read about it
In one hundred years.
The flower would have died,
And new flowers are alive
To be observed.
But the pain is everlasting.
Words are a futile prophecy,
They cannot prevent it.
History only describes
The longing, or
The parts that are missing from
Our present.
Does anyone ever describe
The “Happily ever after” part?
Love is not described
In the context of “Have” but
In the context of “Have not”.
So does beauty.
The intimacy of beauty needs no words.
I would trade all my words
To be able to look at a
Blooming flower
With you.
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