My lady gathers narcissus
A few tucked away in those locks,
Earth under her soles
Her smile so artless.
My lungs filled with cornflower blues
Her small pollen stained hands
Mine stained with her tear brine
A lump of flesh growing in that grain,
Dried are the carcasses of narcissus
Denial of Calabria on her quivering lips,
Echoing hollow voice asphyxiates me
'Imbecile, bleed the red seedy fruit white!'
My lady gathers essences
A few tucked away in those urns,
Embers under her soles
Her smile so listless.
