a spent pedicel descends upon an eddy
where i swim dizzy in the stamens
where i retrace my shaking steps
where i gaze backwards, down, beneath
and high above

my hands unfold into a butterfly
a buzzing brush against his anther
my hands unfold into the soil
the rose unfolds into my hands
a mad nest of canes roots down
and draws up azure sky

ours is a sky roiling with heat
with the gentle lapping of infinite feathers
with the flapping of storm-tossed petals
dipped in every flavour of blue

he infuses me like filaments in steam
a clinging film of distillates
the leather of a bloom upon the spring
the steam that holds his feathers in the sky
and swims to me with buzzing azure wings

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Scarlatan, in the year 930 AF.