Purple Lady Poetry

Words lock up these little bits of pain.
They wrap them in soft tissue.
Precious heirlooms to be preserved
For future study.

To name a thing, to explain it.
To measure, to describe.
Does this encapsulate rough edges
And make them smooth to touch?

Do these words reduce size
So that they can be held in one hand?
A strange, still flower with scent removed
To be placed on my shelf.
To be examined from time to time.