i

she re-enters like a
clumsy sentence
in one lily hand

some picked daisies
-do we not share happiness?
my soul cast upon the rocks

from the sea of ingrate
to the last grain
a boulder in my brain..

ii

she puts them in water
(not unlike my soul)
and on the table-

reconciled by the tide
i say,there´s some marijuana
in my pocket-

(no,she smoked it..)
they are her favourite
-yellow for happiness..