“Wildflowers”
by Z.C.
Peter lies strewn on the field, plucking at his lyre.
Marie walks through fields on velveteen feet, picking a
Bouquet of flowers: Lady's Slippers, asters, narcissi.
Lucy sings of blood—
How is it that among
Siblings of jade, turquoise, topaz—
You who have the hue of heaven's dew
And you there, yes you—
But not you, no, never you—
My Luciferous darling,
You are crimson,
You are cursed, cursed, cursed.
