Is crystal fierce, or is it delicate? This lotus-form in watery shell pink Explodes with chiseled petals, imbricate In full-blown glory, wielding phalanxed power As every glinting tip shoots like a sword Into my sphere—a challenge of a flower.
And yet its angled facets, catching shadow, Sun, and lamplight, kindle varied tones Of white, blush, rose, and waffling mauveish half-glow, Disguising the precision of its points With shifting inner hints and mergences— A dizzy fractionation which disjoints
All surface definition. Yes, my dear, You’ve given me this riddle of a gift: Like it, you harbor multitudes made clear Yet complicated by traversing light And darkness. Look: you captivate my mind This way—as strong and soft, as loose and tight.