My Love, My Rotting Leaves (Part 2 round robin)

Rise! pale white crocus of spring
Eternal love that never dies
Mortician’s stitches, her limbs now stirring
My would be bride opens her eyes

No apparition or mirage
Neither psychoactive effects
Of ganja smoke or liquid ghosts
Could make my lover sit erect

She scans the scene with empty eyes
That come to rest upon my gaze
She smiles big and opens wide
Let me tell you what she says…