— a poem of yearning and defying societal norms in the form of homosexuality. written by myself, dedicated to the girl who may never know of my admiration.

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hesitance, hesitance – the moth peers at

the butterflies around the flower

crowding, dancing, fluttering.

lured by the sweetness, they reach

to touch her delicate petals, her soft scent.

how splendid a view of usual spring days.

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hesitance, hesitance – the moth gazes upon

the flower sunbathed in summertime ribbons.

radiance, warmth and daydreams;

all together in a picture-perfect scene.

flowers of many, yet she is the only star.

her incandescence alluring, enticing.

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hesitance, hesitance – the moth scans around

the starlit garden, for no trace of sound.

frantic, watchful, gradual.

she extends to the flower, a mere brush,

that was all. and then maple leaves descended,

like puzzle pieces all drifting into place.

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oh, here it is:

the beginning of the fall!

the moth drowns in the gales

condemning her wrongdoings and crimes.

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persistence, persistence – the moth strives through

the snowfall and the blizzard’s biting jaw.

treacherous, hollow, cold.

no wrath of winter shall win against

the moth. there the flower stands solitary

in the soft white grounds, smiling.

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the moth floats onto her petals, full of bliss;

a year of distant yearning into an eternal kiss…