Monday, July 16, 2007


The rotting Cyclamen from Valentine’s Day still sits in the middle of the table with its shiny pink paper. Leaves desiccating before my eyes; Once swollen ovaries withering, shrinking with the onset of age like a vegetative menopause. Stems twisted awkwardly, dangling like broken necks in a tight noose, hanging limply over the potter. All life gone except one pink flower. Aleathia Drehmer 2006 Published by Laura Hird Spring Showcase 2007

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