Orchids

These petals are too naïve,
I can’t seem to manipulate them;
they don’t understand the crucial need-
Of curtains;

They glisten, as they would,
If nothing but the moonlight were left-
And ask me,
Why I hide;

…the spotlight haunts me again,
Just sharper, this time.

It’s not the question that hurts-
just this paranoia…
clutches my roots
and leaves me indifferent, to truth;

So I smirk…
Let those weak contortions pull me down,
and rip that veil, naked-
to stand in the sunrise;

I’ll let it be…for now;
These orchids are painless-
I can save these twisted crimsons
for other eyes;