Metallic and clumsy, it’s running towards us.
forgotten and dropped from wind and dust.
rejuvenate the opera, you first heard Latin
forgotten and dropped from wind and dust.
we dream in beds of satin and gold
that shift with each turn of the planets,
wake up to roll and straighten your dress;
you’re sleeping with each alarm.
resonant.
demolish your strength to attract the cold
and tear down your muscles, and lungs full of mold.
Seventy years of spinning around has left your bones
all broken, shoved in the ground.
soil, soil, it’s bound to be over.
your pattern, your gown, and each petal.
the limbs of your flower are scattered, my dear.
Bloom! it will no longer.