I saw a boy holding flowers wrapped in paper on the way home.
From my seat, I laughed silently.
Not out of contempt.
Not out of envy.
But out of understanding.
We both see what's truly underneath.
Those are not just flowers.
Those are locked promises.
Those are the sands of time.
Those are phantom kisses during rainy days.
Those are the arms that hold one when everything seems like quicksand.
The divine is so hard to grasp so we settle on these trinkets.
They will do for now.
I look at him and smile a little.
He doesn't notice me.
Good.
Let him be in his own world.
Let him be so in love that he misses his stop.
I will not do the same though,
For someone worries.
Farewell stranger.
May the next petal that drops be in the aisle.
