《Strange world》language of flowers
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Sweet petunia, do you know your mother?
do you know that deadly nightshade is your kind,
your sticky sap, your blood, your closest kin?
that in the ancient flower language
you are resentment! anger! haughty rage!
despite your rich sweet scent, deep rose-pink throat, soft curves?
that your own cute petunia name means
disappointing smoke . . .
tobacco that will only let you down
if sucked upon, inhaled from cigarettes?
What of it? when we all must grow in muck
be fed and warmed and soiled by what we are
caressed by snakes or not caressed at all
some pulsed-out poisons wound, some boldly heal
some rhythmic wildness gives, grows, upholds life
and after all mixed message speaks its mingle truth —
in ancient tongue petunia also means
"your [sultry]sweetness [strangely] soothes
and [strangely] gives me peace'"
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