On the white six-petalled flower she lay
Watching as the hill fell away
Down the road cut into its side.
As he nuzzled into
Where the stream began
She clutched at the creepers
Snaking up her belly
And hummed a song
Inaudible to the human race
Which was wrapped in its jingoistic
Rhythm of wealth, honour, power, pride
Deaf to all else
Blind to all else
Bowing and feeding the demons
Of war, hatred, class,
With puny imbeciles like him and her.
The trees grew close here.
Sanctuary he called it.
Her laughter broke the stillness
That had pooled up
In green shallows between their
Deserts he used to call those
When she rewarded his questions
With a smile that
Crept into his frowns kissing away
The squiggly lines wondering
What she said unsaid.
The rains have come bringing with them
All the rain flies about to end their lives
Around some unfeeling undead light.
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