Peach Rose

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Dressed in blood white, white gold.

Litany, your lip, pursed with

Not that, this. This!

Petal skip,      arch over brow,

Vased with beauteous        this.

Not earth, not sisters, not sweet soil, not sun.

A vase, a stranger, a sink’s water, a bulb.

This you had been given, not that natural.

Still this          beauteous gift, your swift breath

Ever this you give back.