Wait, Sweet Carnation!
How dare you grow with such haste
My dear friend has yet to return

Won’t you wait a while by my side
And wait to be loved by my love

When she returns, for which she will,
She will embellish you in caressing fingers and divine adoration

Adoration like the dew oozing from
Your sweet, delicate lips

Oh, don’t wither so eagerly
With only me to witness this pathetic chase for demise

Only my friend would see how the
Crinkles of your petals weave like my laughing eyes

How your yellow skin fading to white
Arouses the Poets

She is the Poet

No!
Don’t go—

Let me preserve and protect
Protect that sanctity of transience
That yellow lightening

Let me mix the tonics
Condense your violence to alchemy

Let me discover elixirs and poisons
Toxins and potions

Let me dance through this
Choreography of longevity

Stop!
Please wait—
Drink this
Patience

To stop your begrudging
This desperate mocking

Wait!
Just wait!

Stick your little lifeline
To the ground—

No—Don’t sink!
Stay above the soil so alluring

Let me stitch
Your waning petals

Stitch it with
My tasteful concoctions

Why won’t you

        Just—

Just—

    Stop!

Is it that a flower is only beautiful in its fleeting
Or does its beauty rest in its trying endurance?

She will she will
My friend will return

To witness the mastery of my craft
My craft of resurrection—eternal

Preservation. She will revel and revel.
Yes. She will revel.

For what more is beauty
Then a cause for her
Her beautiful revelry.