Don’t rush, glide through olive flowers

Let them pamper wounds, let thick roses surge forth

Into forbidden land. Leave your stains

To perturb tulip minds.

Tangle of roses in a stolen heart, pry!

In the heart of it all, in pollen beads and petal necklaces

Balance identity on a broken finger pad.

A palm is too small to lift

Universes. Flap Book covers like wings,

tangle fingers, hope to glide through clouds rich in

Opportunity and chance.

Wench books into necklaces 

To cover a chest in. Let them be the stones

In an enchanted forest, tiptoe towards

Rich, fragrant nectar colonies. Bees

Hardly sting and when they do,

Get by with pregnant tears of tulips.

Their smiles and your smiles will pamper

A garden, let bloom its enchantments. Replace and

Run, scrabble at the surface of

Prayers and dreams. You are muddled,

Yet you are wise. You know

What to do.

And so you clench bland duvets and pray,

And so you pry books open and feed,

And so you grasp parts of you like lockets of hair,

And so you strip the flowers, rip the followers

All of them-right

Down

The

Middle.