Perennial by Kristin Garth

A searing, sepals, you will think, that swells
the throat, prohibits drink. Foliage
to buttress vermillion bloom, you expel —
through peeling skin bequeathing room. Spoilage,

humanity all shed while you await
a cultivator, in bed, tender, as
he whispered he would be — hydrate
the wilted perennially. Topaz

imperial, complexion rare, displace
the freckles, ginger hair; replace with dew
perpetual, thorns, pollen coat; grow roots to taste;
exchange a useless throat. He will pluck you,

abandoned, withered rose reposed; he knows
his perennial dare not decompose.


Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Best of the Net & Rhysling nominated sonnet stalker. Her poetry has stalked magazines like Glass, Yes, Five:2: One, Former Cactus, Occulum & many more. She has six chapbooks including Shakespeare for Sociopaths (Hedgehog Poetry Press), Pink Plastic House (Maverick Duck Press), Puritan U (Rhythm & Bones Press March 2019) and The Legend of the Were Mer (Thirty West Publishing House March 2019). Her full length, Candy Cigarette, is forthcoming April 2019 (The Hedgehog Poetry Press), and she has a fantasy collaborative full length A Victorian Dollhousing Ceremony forthcoming in June (Rhythm & Bones Lit) and Flutter (TwistiT Press) in January 2020. Follow her on Twitter: (@lolaandjolie), and her website

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