Photo by Cepolina

Deep red, do I dare embrace
To reach for your scent
Of passion’s desires withheld
By the thorns of my mistakes

Your tragic beauty so
Demanding to be alone
With green leaf and pedal
And protection from me

I gently reach to try
And I feel it sting, a bite
The pin-prick scratch
And I begin to bleed

Deep plushes of red
Emotions and your valiance
I leave you alone, learning
The pain of loving you

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3 Responses to Rose

  1. jnanarama says:

    I feel the tragedy. Unrequited love is so debilitating. I don’t know who she is, but the poem paints her well.

  2. LK says:

    I don’t know either anymore, but I suppose I could have written a poem about my knife, or my surfboard or something.

  3. jnanarama says:

    Whatever it was I said, I wish you would just tell me. : ( I can’t start thinking everything’s about me, that would be excessively egocentric, but if it is, please tell me what it was.

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