The walls, also, seem to be warming themselves (57)
So it's not just the tulips: the walls, too, are coming alive (at least in the speaker's mind). Of course they only seem to be, so maybe our speaker is actually regaining her grasp of reality?
They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat, (59)
What are we dealing with here: a crazy hallucination or just a pretty poetic image? This poem definitely tiptoes along that line; sometimes our speaker sounds downright nuts, and sometimes she sounds merely imaginative. But wait a second – is it possible she can be both at the same time?