I gripped the damned flowers—
Their prickly necks penetrating my flesh
Deeply with an unabated vengeance.
I paid no heed at all—
As I tore the petals one by one from their heads,
Then tucked them scrupulously into my long, dark tresses—
Until they were no more,
The garden became no more,
The Earth beneath the torrent of scarlet—
No more.
Amidst my own liquidation—
The remnants of grace floated on,
Swept by the menacing undertow
Farther aimlessly from me,
And into the horizon.
