Timothy

Jack's Twisted Kingdom
2013-06-08 08:07:12 (UTC)

fear of dead roses

I fear dead roses
the ones gifted by my paramour
for she derides their context

These drumbeats called my heart
slam like snow drifts plowed into
walls made of dust

far fetched from my excoriated bliss
I cannot help but dream
in a crimson hued haze

shall I break it down? her starlight
tastes of pure ambrosia, those lips
slick, silky, drenched in lust

curiously, have I engendered wonder?
where none could be quenched afore?
these tales of mine woven into lies

my dionysian outlook betrayed
my own struggle for control of
something yet to come

the horror behind her painted locks
you should know of our pale & wanton
thrill-filled glee

it wasn't for you
that rose I found, it was for me
we were one blink away from "us"

she beckoned to me with those amber eyes
strange, our hour, so unannounced
so unplanned for, so long

like a over-friendly
guest you've brought to bed
but I've lied you see

the tide grows dim
the arms stretched out, wrapped in plastic
we, she and I, danced in the rain

I should liked to have said, stay,
but I did not, would not, could not, say it
so she ran, I ran, we blinked

and then the petals dropped
for I have a fear of dead roses
and those broken promises

But I've lied again
sweet sultry lies
beautiful, silky, supple lies

there is no dusk here,
no ending in sight, only blood,
sweat, and tears

tears of desire, lost lust
flailing in the wind
the thorns pricking at my heart

I plucked at her soul
she fenced my heart, and now
I have a fear of dead roses

(Rolston, S. I assure you, this is mine own. 2020)