519.
Dead blue orchid thoughts,
Beauty reduced to compost.
Petals are my sword.
519.
Dead blue orchid thoughts,
Beauty reduced to compost.
Petals are my sword.
436.
I unclasped curtains,
And whole absurd worlds returned
Just as they were left.
437.
Because the world does
Not give up, blossom still falls
The orchid still fails.