Tag Archives: rose

Untitled 

 

I want to own beautiful things.

A hardwood floor

to sprawl about in summer.

A needle

that peaks on vinyl

A rose

that animates the air

before it has been seen.

 

I want to reside as a dangling bra strap on your shoulder

My eyes to default to the furrowed creases between brow and bristles at your moment of O

My mouth to savour the bare breaths

when you part

my kimono.

 

I want every pen indentation

to arrest with intonation

that mornings lathering of soap

The groan you couldn’t help

And that era when my name

sounded like love.

 

I acquiesce

I don’t want

much else

 

Except perhaps

to see the lakes surface quivering above her privates

To feel

damp clumps of moss mat beneath my bare arse

And to curl

into cotton

And blossoms

as they drop

in the air.

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Ovulation 

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The Auburn Rose

I came across an Auburn Rose

A fire fractured by the soft morning light

but burning still

as lovers might.

It had interlaced it’s fingers around those

less fortunate.

Brown and crinkled they cracked and fell.

But she

this Auburn Rose

only looked on death as a last lover

Panting

Pulsing

and biting back at the frost with both her blushing cheeks.

At the time winter came

she groaned unabashed

satisfied

with her fill of earth and sun

and soak of sky.

I wept

not for her

but that I might have been an

Auburn Rose.

 

 

 

 

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