Lure & Sentence
Desire came and went.
It grew tangled, threading
itself through the garden, vital thorned
vine. Took grip with brilliant
deception at the base of the gardenia,
passed itself off as the original
varietal. Some deceptions
are welcomed. Some poisonous,
tipped with harm the leaf-shape,
the green-shade tells. The blossoms
put out by the garden radiate
with sun-fill. I was told
not to pick the flowers, daring
brightness, delicate upside-
down lamps: a face that shone my face
back. How the blooms poured
a fragrance grotesquely heavy-sweet.
Finches tore apart the sunflowers.
Pollen specked my skin the very moment
I touched what would never last.
A. C. Grayling