Spilt petals
Bleach-hearted,
Something fragile gently drifts to me.
This is purified water and harsh spearmint,
Searing the weary edges of the mouth.
A distillation of a visceral wish,
Furious yet elegant.
Yet another feast.
A banquet hall, glittering and ornate,
Trading profundity for opulence;
The grand seat for the prince spilt petals.