my flowers

My flowers are reflected

In your mind

As you are reflected in your glass.

When you look at them,

There is nothing in your mind

Except the reflections

Of my flowers.

But when I look at them

I see only the reflections

In your mind,

And not my flowers.

It is my desire

To bring roses,

And place them before you

In a white dish.

---The Florist Wears Knee-Breeches 

by Wallace Stevens