discoveries made too late

upon seeing the potted flowers in the store

so beautiful, so seemingly original in all their

majestic aura, flirting with all the senses,

taken in by the smell & aroused by the touch of the

petals,

the onlooker wants nothing more than to take the

flowers home & make them their own,

so that they can place them on the windowsill

in order to catch the rays of light &

stir up the apartment, if possible,

with a new way of looking at the world---

in the same way we see beauty in other attractive human beings &

we want to smell, taste, touch them & then, unfortunately,

the need to possess them infects so many,

where taking them home &

placing them on the shelf so that no one else can get a good look at them

except through a thick pane of glass

still seems to be proper etiquette in the

21^st century---

this invades what might of once been something of a pure

motive---

when already the ball has begun rolling,

the person stashed on the sill

finds themselves wondering what exactly is going to become of this

new relationship,

as the newness starts to wither

much like the flower on the sill whose watering gets neglected

as the days pass,

the new flower has made plans to leave

the next time it gets a chance &

that lone stroller who initially found such beauty

will never get to delve deeper into the complexities

which come with fostering discovery

instead of placing on the shelf someone

whose aesthetic beauty only captivated the onlooker for just so long &

when they are gone,

the lone stroller finds themselves knocking up side their own head

because the discoveries that could have been had,

the overwhelming interesting things that comprised the flower so quickly shelved,

now can never be known.