A drum roll cascades, flowing through a field of plastic roses
their fragrance only imagined in her wildest dreams
Her beauty lies within and without touching all but one
He buys her plastic flowers with her blood, bones, life
but she delights in them anyway
despite his emotional flight
Eyes closed, mind wiped, she sniffs his plastic flowers
her mind in a euphoriant respite
Witnesses die in their appeal for hours
hoping one day for her mind to open up.
Mel Evers wonders about it all 