orchids come in arsenals of speckled colors
and porcelain vases splinter when faced with
move to pick up the shards, girl, and will you
slice your palms?
will you bleed monochrome or rainbow?
you burn your hands on coffee shop string lights
and sip rosy tea
all you taste is daffodil, prickling your tongue
teacups shatter under pressure and the strain
chips your nail polish
and your nails are painted lavender but
which hands will you clasp?
your eyes are lined in muddled-black kohl
and you wonder if your lipstick will be smudged
capillaries burst inside the undecided
and erythema toils with your foundation
orchid petals fall from your mouth,
entangled in your gums
and you try in vain, but your eyes cannot decipher
how the rings interlock
who are you?
who will you be?