As Seven looked around his domain, Fox drew a deep breath, thinking of the clue he’d seen in Simon’s domain, written on the wall in Simon’s spiky, erratic letters. He didn’t like how the clue sounded, what he thought it might say about him. But he still wanted to try to get back all of King’s memories, and to do that, he needed to find his own clue
He didn’t want to write down the clue, so he waited for Seven to finish sight-seeing and to sit next to him at one of the tables overlooking the stream.
One day a desert started
A sunny summer day
It grew up from a bitter thought
The day you went away
It has no desert flowers
No springs or signs of life
It thrives on your abandonment
The proof of it is rife
The head in which the desert grows
Does not wait for your return
But in retaliation
All bridges crossed will burn
It sprung up from a moment
That sunny summer day
A mind that burns its flowers
And always runs away