I have seen your mouth transfigured
By the fragments of ancient fevers.
It was a wild, strange sound.
I have heard the wind in white cedars
And black poplars.
It was the colour of wet narcissus.
I have tasted the petals of acanthus
And Thessalian iris.
They were but circles of salt.Bethany van Rijswijk, from ‘Opium-eater’ (via talisman)