In a garden with the girl
and saturated colors
that make this a moment to say things
that should be said
and receive answers
that have been waited for.

I tell her
I like her
and maybe something more
and she stops,
looks deeply for a moment,
smiles wanly while tilting her head to the side
and says I know.

She shrugs
smiles again and walks away.
It is perhaps the most hurtful she has ever been.
This is a garden
in which nothing true
can ever grow.