Soft sand, the Orchid stands,
Or sits rather.
I miss her, the Orchid.
I miss her, the Peach.
I miss her, the Rebel.
I miss her, the Dream.

Soft like sand, I lay and draw lines.
Lines and lines.

One must lead to her.
Soft as the finest sand, Egyptian cotton.

Soft like skin. Soft like pedals.
Soft like love, I miss her.