Clementine

[makeshift]

Unfold a rose, its pinkish hue
Frostbitten on black velvet.
Slip conscience into its heavy folds,
Where universe is heaving.

Maybe im not reading this close enough but the meaning is certainly beyond me.

The imagery is interesting, "Slip conscience into its heavy folds," I think back to the unfolding of the rose here but "conscience" also makes me think of the folds of a brain, and the two together. The mind is a rose??

"Frosbitten on black velvet" This line invokes a very beautiful image, an almost Baroque contrast.

"Where universe is heaving." I would also be more comfortable if this line was "the universe" but the combination of universe + heaving is really powerful in a visceral sense, has a lot of weight to it.

So, in short I take from this that the universe is in our minds or maybe reflected in our minds moving and that our ideas exist in some sort of void (black velvet)? Probably not at all what you intended when you wrote this, but to me poignant nonetheless. Idk I feel like I don't have a proper enough understanding of this poem to suggest any changes, I will say the title didn't add anything for me.
Hope something I typed here was constructive, enjoyed the read (: