He sends me flowers
One is more than I can stand
Big bright bold flowers
Acidic in my hands
Trial this mad irony
How Beauty made Anxiety
Is my castle made of sand?
What does he demand
Of my irreparable hardness?
He sends me flowers
I am unprepared
My old ghost cowers
Running, running, running scared
In amongst this holy obscene
Am I made of plasticine
Or titanium shell?
Or do you know me so well
In my unbearable softness?
He sends me flowers
I am unprepared