It goes to sleep beside me, the sulphurous rose,
sulphur yellow, auriferous, metallic.
Firm in its dense, thick capitula,
its stalk is elated in a lover’s
insecure resolve and hidden matters.
It keeps the heat from fire, from amber the painless
path. You, prostrate veronica,
mysterious in your pulsating nature, be
artery, docile colour, before shape, be essence,
before the end, the beginning, ring of flames.