Little Sylvia’s gone to sleep
I wish I slept beside her

I fear not what I see
obsidian petals of scarlet tulips
beauty borne with dreadful purity
But I am afraid of their touch
blistering cold, oh so cold
a deceptively gentle sweet rush
cuts my lips & parch
as I masticate
it bled to swallow
the pieces of me born again
born again to weep
I caress a petal now & then
but crush it in haste
to hide our awful secrets
in what hour we whispered
I love them still, oh still
if I ever did

Little Sylvia’s gone to sleep
I wish I slept beside her

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