I didn't know there were chapters
and pages that turned
yellow and ripped
or that one day it would all burn

I didn't know that petals would fall
or what snow was
or black dead night

I didn't know that truth would be an illusion
or that bricks could ever crumble

Sitting in the desert sun
a thick, smooth flower bursts
from its bud
jagged spines run
up its stem while I choke
on nothing but air