A HYMN IN DARKNESS

why do you grow flowers in
the void that divides us?
flowers with white stems
and faces of dead children.
their roots such silence
from cavities of last night's
teeth sunk in yellow gums.

your flowers smell of pain,
lost years embedded in mud—
worm-words oozing odours of
slime-songs, hymns in darkness.
why do you grow flowers in
this eyeless silence, on the
cold marble that divided us?