Asters for September and apple blossom,
bergamot, blackbirds or ravens on the hemlock.
Chrysanthemums, citrine and chai latte,
“dark ambient” on Spotify and
Enneagram Type 2. Browns like
furs, those of timberwolves. The candied
ginger wax blistering down to wicks.
Hinoki and honey quartz, loose gems
inset in the bezel. I am a Virgo, so I must like
Jane Eyre, the oil glands of juniper, must be judgemental,
a know-it-all, an overthinker, desiring vials of
laudanum and Ladybird, then Lo-Fi Girl Youtube.
Moss agate and a mojito, midnight or
navy blue. Neutrals like flour, cream,
olivine: magnesium iron silicate in the earth’s subsurface.
Pink magnolia, pinot noir in a Riedel glass.
Quartz: smoky or rose in a teardrop pendant.
Rosemary, rusted orange linens for the reception,
snapdragons and ranunculus, the bouquet I called “Griselda.”
Tourmaline and tonka bean, white tulips.
Ulcers developed from a madness during college.
Veronica flowers, known also as bird’s eye or gypsyweed.
Wax begonia and white-tailed deer here,
excoriating antler velvet, and purple
yams at winter supper parties, the
zirconia stone I acquired at birth: sapphire in September.