A Memory of Flowers
the tulips
were bleeding
on my dress
as the lilies cried
tears of stone
I watched
the babies breath
enchant
a congregation
but it was the petals
of a white rose
that released a memory
of orchids,
the Orchids
are who I am
blooming in the exotic,
and handled with care
beautiful to behold
in the garden
of my mind
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