Those white wildflowers beyond your window— call them by my name.
When they sway in the breeze, whispering secrets into the wind's ear, then— will you remember?
When rain comes I'll be the flame tree, and you the branch that holds me, we'll drench together, kiss-bound—your lips, my cheek wholly.
You'll be the eastern sky, I'll be moonlight's spell in a cloud-filled land, this heart won't heed any prohibition—for you, let me be brazen, unplanned.