I am a rare unnamed flower.
No one recognizes me when they gaze at me
because no one has ever seen a flower like me
or stroked petals like mine before.

My scent is delicately intoxicating.
Its essence is measured in precious drops of love,
beads of sweat, streams of milk,
rivers of emotions, sensations, libations.

Among the common varieties of flowers
I am misunderstood and misrepresented.
I am often misguided, intimate with misfortune,
but never feared or forgotten.

Women trust and love me, or envy and disparage me.
Some look in my eye and read poetry there.
Others hate me,
because I am such a beautiful flower.

Men buy me, cut me, sell me, pluck me,
poke their fingers around trying to find my center,
put aspirin in my water,
and marvel at my resilience.

Senator Sin
January 5, 1999