The Tower

The flower is always within the almond.

The tower is perfectly round, of dark stone, containing only light from
a narrow window.

The girl within dreams she is the bud, hidden by a profusion of blades.

Constantina, still enclosed, tightly folded seed.

Is the tower the seed which encloses, or is this seed the sitting room
of mind?

She was brought to the tower unwillingly.

To follow a color not in the spectrum, a lure.

For there to be color, she was told, while stringing a scarab onto an
amulet which she now wears about her neck, something must be
absorbed.

One color is the absence of all others.

At that moment, all of her possible habitations vanished from sight.

One absence is the lover who displaces the spectrum.

She feigns sleep like a curl and dreams of her past life where things
had once to be accomplished.

Copyright © 2007 Laynie Browne All rights reserved
from The Scented Fox
Wave Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission