I picked tulips for you,
not because they’re loud,
but because they lean toward the light
the same way you do when the room gets quiet.
Red ones for the way you make my heart
forget how to be careful.
White ones for how you make peace
out of my noisy days.
And that one yellow, stubborn stem,
for the smile you give me
when you think I’m not looking.
Tulips don’t last forever in a vase.
They open, they soften, they turn toward you.
Like you.
Like us.
Keep them by your window.
Every time they catch the sun,
think of me thinking of you.