72) A Dried Flower

       Wolran Kim

I walked into an airtight container after snapping my legs like a mini rose. The silica gel spread and the silica gel fell down from the sky like hailstones. I drowned in the colored-sand swamp over and over and the world filled with the desiccant. In the sealed up time somebody changed the desiccant like a season. Strange that I was never thirsty. The mountain’s flowers became extinct, all scrambled. I shook off the silica gel like snow, my eyes wet.

Between the blooming and fading
Between the dewdrops and the breezes
Rustling, parched up with a sound
The scent of flowers in the twinkling eye

Starting all over again. The reborn silica gel, from a microwave, falling from the sky, and I became a ceased flower with shape and hue, in time, sealed up. I became a lovely stuffed flower and I laid down in the frame as if I were an insect. I stood as if I were a doll in a glass bottle. The desiccant dressed the deceased like aromatic trees, I wouldn’t have to die, I wouldn’t have to moisten. O dear! As soon as I moved, a knuckle crushed to pieces and fell down as flower-rain. My fragrance through the glass wall watches me.