THE PREMISE OF LOVE

If you give me flowers

If you give me flowers
I would preserve
each petal in a different shrouds
some accompanying your warmth
whilst some the imprint of glossy pristine touch,

with one petal
I would paint the chandelier of your eyes
Sparkling with the ethereal elegance
it would drizzle its ignite
and I put all at the epicentre of my shelf
So its aroma could kiss the abandoned plasters of my past,

With one petal
I would carry the lonely weep of your hazel eyes
into some old remnants of your old tiny frock that you admire most
and now it seems faded
I would paint it with some borrowed colours from the sunset
I would wash it in the aroma of your submissive oasis
though I'm not autumn I would get you rid of the embroidery of cactus,

What metaphor I could prefer to paint the other petal
If you would let it touch silk sheets of your skin
I would paint those petals into a pilgrimage to your toe to your very thought
whilst I glimpse the moon every night
Its submissiveness let drizzles my heart,

With one petal
I would embark on the curve of your lips when you smile
carrying an enigma in the heart
I would let you cry, so loud
So the twine of depression and scars
could come out of its gloomy past,

With one petal
I would borrow your past
and plant it before my bed where I put my spectacles aside
and lay down to feel the serenity of your presence beside
and if it seems faded
I promise I would not make you wait for spring
So I'll be myself a spring when its the bleak everywhere aside,

So If you give me flowers
I would let my nib take colour from the petals
and it would compose your sensibility and engrave it
in the metaphors on the rocks, on the pieces of leaves that would give born to countless petals which will carry the touch of your hazel eyes,
and it would be celebrated till where its very existence will last,