180

with the fall of its last petal
the flower revealed her
in all her unseen splendour.

.
.

179

one day she revealed
that the opacity of things
was but the glean.

.
.

178

her secret lay
in letting others
seek her.

.
.

177

even their obscurity
she tended with light.

.
.

176

they were her dream,
and she theirs.

.
.

175

they remained susceptible to longing,
for bliss was but the shadow of desire.


.
.

174

with few exceptions,
they preferred the luxuriant,
the profuse, the fertile.
yet seeing that they would often
lose themselves within it,
she had her ways to remind them
of the essential.

.
.

173

many found her vague
or inapparent;
yet she was anything but.
whenever necessary
she would supply
the world as proof.

.
.

172

it was also necessary
to become aware
that blood
coursed through the veins
of silence.

.
.

171

for those who had lost sight of her,
she left a trail of tears
dappling the pale blue of the sky.

.
.