Pluck the world of daisies

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What are you thinking about?
he asked, what a loaded question
when we hold whole worlds inside our heads
a thousand suns rise and set all at once
where each bright day is filled with
infinite possibility.

Nothing in particular, I smile
Gently, as is expected, because to tell him the truth would be to say:

Whether plants are pained as we unroot the green grass,
Winding pretty flowers into circles of eternity
The mysterious sounds that houses make when they think
no one is listening,
Whether you and I will last a lifetime,
Or is this a summer romance?

Will we ever be more than friends?
And will it ever be appropriate to say
I dreamt of you, we were happy,
shall we turn dim dreams into
glorious reality?

I may pluck the world of daisies
but you may still love me not.

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