Hidden behind a wall
The inner shell thick with painted roses
The outside world hoarded – invisible
Unless seekers long for organs touched
It is then the blackish green appears – in slivers

I may or may not be seen
Spotted painting my masterpiece – blushing
Holding my own hands – gasping
Can you smell the stink in my breath?
Do you like its filthy allure?

No you do not
You never before wept
Admiring apocalypse kittens
Your hair in the mirror with the fire bombed halo

So I’ll hide behind my hedges
From those who doubt
2008