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The Fleur Room

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we have a duty to beauty
something is as beautiful
as it insists on us to react
applause or pray or pause
it’s hightime for more time
stretched further in grace
in bottling a fleeting scent
of scentless tulips around
a mute’s two lips surround
the flowers I kiss to count
how many freckles must I
lick off my memory’s wall
until a room rises back up
to a cloud-piercing bloom
you’re only as beautiful as
your insistence on mine to
applause or pause or pray
or all when I just do the art

Your love helps me write something worth reading or do something worth writing. Thanks, L.

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