She wears a cape of winter grey draped over her shoulders bare they call her Prim bow to dance her suitors unaware, of victims past and lovers gone regarding false identity, mounting her in cold dominion riding her absentmindedly. A path is laid with daffodils heads heavy from winter rain, would you stand tall Crowned Radiant if thousands trampled your mane? A girl drinks coffee watered by rain sits under a Rowan Whitebeam tree amongst the treasures of quiet roses the self can finally see Prim opens arms Wet and Verdant undressing Girl’s secret scars washes memories of hospital Away while conversing with hidden stars Girl asks Prim the answers to lore, of knowledge owned by Destiny Prim lays quiet, tired from Sun and welcomes Moon’s neutrality ‘if Sun met Moon and Moon went blind would Sun remain faithfully? Would Moon release her dreams of courting one younger than Sun’s infinity?’ buried beneath the earth of Prim lay prayers left by Dreamers like Girl, relapses pills drink drop down from leaves as Flowers unfurl.
Orchid in the Office 