narcissa

The garden will take care of itself It feels lonely pulling vines with empty hands I cannot spare a moment to blink A line that goes on and on and ever on Till silence reigns; tug hands; black hearts Leafy snakes rub, wrap against the wrinkle ofbrown skin Twist fingers Tendril spouts fire of blossom Currents and undercurrents of pollen Falling like buttercup tears Falling like sleep dust cover Meadows of now I cannot remember ever having breathed In stopped-up silence Powdered lillies White weeds wait, expectant Beside my bed