I burn baby's breath in newborn passion

as cunning creation evokes destruction.


I scold the skin of silk that eclipses

a false celestial conscience.


Adorning the garden I was told to grow,

by sowing and pruning with withering inferno.


Opulent roses that once patterned my dress

now rose in violet violence.


My security in conformity diminished

like the short lived flame

of a dead flower.