A boy whispers lovingly to a rose,
sweet words complimenting
the perfection of its form.
“With silky petals, of a soft and pure hue,
under scintillating drops of morning dew and rain,
your elegance is beyond belief.”
“And yet your thorns
— vicious and unkind to my affectionate hands —
prevent me from caressing your delicate skin,
and showing you how much you mean to me.”
The hopeful rose,
dropped every one of its thorns,
and was swiftly plucked off its bush and killed.
A bird who is friends
with a shy and guarded snail,
sings songs of desire and joy.
“Your presence in my life is a present,
your company a gift from the gods,
and every moment I spend by your side,
will become a cherished memory in my mind.”
“And yet your shell
— so unfeeling and cold —
prevents me from seeing your truth.
You hide from me,
from my tenderness and warmth,
as you hide yourself from the light.”
The snail, not wanting to lose a dear friend,
emerged from his shell,
and sat exposed.
Until the bird, his dear friend,
bent down
and devoured his unprotected form.
The rose abandoned its thorns,
as the snail abandoned its shell,
and it brought about their demise.
So excuse me for trembling
when you ask me to drop my indifference.
