glistening petals, pearly skin
as white and rosy as a memory
of fairytales told to me long ago –
but somehow they don’t seem to be
the lasting objects of veneration
that I have sought, (that I came here to see);
they droop as if caught up
in some sad moment’s melancholy,
and from the silky petals fall
two pearly drops – signaling fatefully
the doom of yet another worshipped object;
the fate of each and every thing of beauty

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.