How would you hold a flower?

how would you hold a flower?
would you hold her
with the heaviness of awe
lining your liquid eyes,
still searching to pour or fill
what can never be held?
or would you hold her
with the impersonal flourish
of a by-stander
unwilling to die
into her sensuous folds?
or would you hold her
with the strange perfume
of a mystery
that cannot be solved
but only lived
through the gentlest touch
of your crushed heart?
how would you hold a flower?
how would you hold her
with your heart?