3337 I lived that flower in its opulence

I lived that flower
In its opulence,
When the explosion
Of color
It navigated
For my darkened
Pupils
And filling
Of their aroma
My dirty
Deep.

It was as feeling
Overfilled
To the four sides
Of my soul.
Obese of delights.

I shuddered
Now
That it tears me
The memory
Of its iridescence,
In the pillars
Of my memory
I feel the fluttering
Earthquake
Of its delicate
Petals
Wide open.

The memory
Of its corolla
Has been
Transformed
In a delicate and fine
Work in progress.