Seed Before Flower

Let me be the vessel that holds you—
your molten self, all glow and shimmer,
too soft to stand,
too sacred to spill.

You’ve undone the form,
loosened the grip,
your edges dissolved
into something true.

I am here
not to cool you,
not to shape you,
but to witness the wonder of you
when you’ve surrendered to becoming.

Fully melted.
Fully yours.
And still—
entirely mine.

Rest in this—
I keep the shape of your heat
like a prayer cupped
between the petals
of my flower,
still damp with idea,
still trembling with your name.