In a garden of blooming flowers,

You’re the one I’d never pick.

I’d continue to water you

With gentle sprinkles instead,

So I could continue on delighting in

Your beauty and grace.

I’d rather let you grow in the wild

Than to let you die in my arms.

Admiring you from afar is indeed better

Than to own you once and never again afterwards.


“You’re perfect”
He said as he stared at my naked body
As he stroked my neck down to my hips
As he rested my arms on his shoulder blades

“No, I’m not”
I replied as I reticently looked away
As I covered my chest from the cold
As my cheeks turned bright red from the compliment

He, then, laid me down
And his lips found its way to mine
I could feel the pressure as he’s on top of me
But there’s no pain but affection

He paused for a moment
“What’s wrong?” I asked curiously
“Nothing” he replied
“I just never thought that perfection can be grasped by my hands.”