This piece was written during the Museum Tales course held at Brighton Museum in the summer of 2014

Stolen from a vase amongst several
central to each table in the museum café,
a white-petalled button-hole bloom.

Yellow middle radiating petticoat frills
and cut stalk moist from its dip in Brighton tap-water,
it’s now denim-crushed, pocket-hidden.

Later, I may pluck each gentle blade
for loves refused or given,
remove them like insect wings.

Or, between the pages of a book,
carefully place this one-of-a-crowd flower,
an artifact for preservation.

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