I am a peach pigment lost in nostalgia
You are a black flower out of touch with reality
I used to fly freely as an organic shape,
Then the stars fell into your bed that night.

Nostalgia is now everywhere but not with you,
You, Black Flower, are my reality,
But I'm still not sure if it's real.

I become a peach pigment in oblivion
The black flower will choose my escape
But I start to wonder if you will ever decide.