Ohmygod, turn off the water! she said. You'll waste it!
I can't, I said. I'm doing something important.
What are you doing?
I was feeling the soapsuds in my fingers while listening to the sound of hot water falling into a basin.
Why Poems About Flowers Are Inexhaustible
Because they're real!
And when you come across one
you think: still?! For me, even?
I've heard about you,
but, oh!
And so a poem is born.
