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..