Deux Fleurs maléfiques

I will walk you down to the ends
of the Earth,
never relent, never let our enemies
find our secret,
never let them find the sacred spaces
our memories breed,
never let them guess, nor believe with one deft swoop
to obliterate, to bleed—the best of you
is the best of me.
The best of you I said is the best of me.

So hide me now, this
broken child,
hide me now in those sacred spaces
that we may breed.
And when those who follow see the flowers come
to belch their stench and
sow their seed, let us,
O my Muse! stand arm in arm,
with wicked smile
and watch our enemies feast.

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