I bruise more easily than in my youth
and you knew that, planting your fingers
in my arm where the flesh is softest.
Did you mean it as a floral tribute
to what might have been if I were young enough ?
The bloom's exotic but a dead-end hybrid.
What else could germinate out of a cross
between your future and my past except
this sad memento mori I call
Orchis-Hermodactylus and watch
its inky purples fading even as I write
about the silly dream I had of Lad's-love ?
Sylvia Kantaris (Born 1936)