Undergrowth with Two Figures - Van Gogh

I have the rhythm of a winding road how do I consign myself to being confined rows of poplar pillars prop the rendezvous canopy beneath we meet —I self-cajole on ooh-la-la afternoon yellow eyes; daffodils watching lean into gossip groups nodding a prodding breeze instigating deep-freeze I am a sweet weed in this place of sway and betray with a stranger I stroll my arranged betrothed height of his black top hat challenges trees much like Corinthian columns guards of an aisle I must walk —dear God! must walk trepidation trips down my bridal spinal column tiger eyes; lilies watching wish they were me dare they dream they could uproot their roots like me wish they could wedding waltz like I must —like I must but their envy-leaves remain embrace-less —I envy lilies’ empty arms of yet unmet love daffodils; empty-headed —laugh they try to read my mind to fill their own what do I care their curdled thoughts lemon tart and orange lilies’ brocade brimstone what do I fear of fire-tongues burn of words undergrowth feels square heels of my lace-up boots post impression grows more expressive than first —beware French tongues of burdock burrs marriage-carriage rolls in ruts to Versailles where my coerced corset of hooks and ties lie rhythm of a winding road dies in minuet strangle-hold