Tuesday, September 8, 2020

the dead flower

why aren't you kissing
me
she'd say
after a week of absence
her lipstick
on
smelling like a rose
waiting
to be cut 
and watered, arranged
in a crystal vase.
why aren't you kissing me?

three months later,
the bloom
was off, the flower
dead.
it was why are you touching me?
you're so clingy
and needy.
so dependent upon
me,
please, please, enough
already.
back away.

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