Strange Death

Unfinished infatuations

Linger

In the doorway

I would rather exit quit

Than enter

Into a fermenting embrace

Fizzling

My essence with it.

Instead,

I caress an orb of glass

That hoards

A Jupiter rose

Blooming out

A new kind of sacrifice

I haven’t met before –

Petals fall

Upon

The setting of a cycle,

Conscious and sick.

It’s hard to place

What is burning away.



🎨/📷 by Georgia O'Keeffe, Red Hill and White Shell, 1938