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Gaude
flore virginali
How
almost transparent
the
vellum, how smooth
under
her finger the painted
border;
the tiny flowers so
colourful,
their names
a
litany: mirabilis,
euphorbia,
symphoricarpos,
artemisa,
angelica,
archangelica
umbelliferae.
She names
them
out aloud, reads the
pictures
to herself. Here
is
the edge of the initial O,
Obsecro
te, with filigree so
delicate,
the gold ever
so
slightly cold to the touch.
She
looks up, lilium candidum
in
the vase before her:
recognises
the image. Of course,
she
is wearing her best
dress,
blue, she'd know it
anywhere,
lapus lazuli;
it
makes the page so
expensive.
She lifts her
face,
the ray of light
gentle
as a shadow;
remembers,
once
upon a time.
Stands
there.
Says
something. Is looking
straight
at her.
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