Poisonous beauty, I will not eat you - because you are delicate...like a sensitive flower. I mean, you really are a delicate flower....Wait...
MOSS: (ENTER STAGE RIGHT)
I found you strewn amidst the lawn...you with aspirations of terrariums and orchid blankets... I thought to rescue you from the claws of cats and weedkillers. In fact I left you in the back of the truck, rolled in tissue paper until you dried up and died. What have I done???
[A recent visit to the NYC Opera has provided mild dramatic motivation.]