A Flower Called Asphodel

I’m cut to the quick and I’m floating through you out of phase.
(You will unroll the whole malaise.)
And counting the words you furnished first, you called me out from the lane.

Come what may, who may appear from the silver green?
We tampered with all the alliance filigree.

I’m calling you to a sermon to learn how to choose. Whose business is this?
(This is sustenance.)
We’ll mine the surface; together we’re soon sure to strike a seam.

Selling something steeped in here, stop your warring!
I can feel you stalling, let your calm out to flourish.

Come what may, I met you up here in my lethargy.
Matching clicks we made it a silence throughtosee.

I will give you this love, this love.

So came an angel of bright hues – hauling up my car.
(You have carried me so far.)
Second nature to find you – falling from a star.
(This is sustenance, you will unroll the whole malaise.)
Never lay an indictment – I’m born of Balthazar.

I will give you this love, this love.

My first year of university was my first time away from home and my first time experiencing that anxiety none of us realised until later that we were all quietly feeling. Among unfamiliar people and experiences, I was tethered by a relationship which was strained by distance and the slow dawning that it was untenable. Despite this each of us was the other’s constant, and we tinkered with the terms of the relationship, negotiating and searching with personalities that were morphing rapidly from those which first met.

The “lane” can be found at 55°02’05.3″N 2°07’36.5″W (extending eastwards).

Green is the colour of a mirror; you can see it by looking at distant reflections in an infinity mirror.

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