a thorn
decides to pierce
the soft
skin
of your arm.
just below the elbow.
almost like
a bee sting, but worse.
it stays
in where it hooked.
thick
and curved like
a shark's fin.
the drop of blood is warm,
as you taste
the tiny lamp
of red
off a finger.
roses used
to be your friend.
roses of any color.
how things have changed.
the bundles
coming less
and less
to an empty vase.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment