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.
