Strange Flowers

Watching myself through someone else is a strange way to see.

Gentle hands place me before a mirror; I must be aware of his amuse of muses. Lips penetrate my thick skull under a tuft of lion's mane; the reflection fades into underworlds of existence.

Silk woven Ralph Lauren blush lavender covers black rose lace straps. Shoes can be a dying pair for romance. Bed linens grace a dead woman. Journey for disbanding radio, abstract frequency absent of a body; nothingness creates a funnel.