Salad Days

(These are difficult times ahead of us.)

The sound is short, but vital.

"You're in a coma", I moved across the room.

"How can I pay you?" (In another world)

Do you hear the lament, apricot?

"The bloom of youth, at the top of your skin."

I can whisper to save myself, if diamonds are all you need.

I expect your skin today. And beyond meadows.