|Written by Richard King Perkins II / Artwork by Lee Kuruganti
She lives in a flower garden
of snapdragons and winter jasmine—
and I have found a place here too.
With intimate entwine,
we capture light between us
despite our distance from the sun
never releasing it
until absorption feeds ache
and even now
it is difficult to separate.
You say we cannot die
because everything will return to life
in a flower garden
of lilacs and purple hyacinth
as your nude body
is transfigured in mortal synthesis.
By taking me further into the conceal
of your green horizon
and promises you never meant to keep
I surrender to your flower garden
of evening primrose and Chinese tearthumb
and the twisted thorn
of your primeval yogic graveyard.
This is how you killed the last unicorn.