Prima Rosa

rose-garden-07

Above your dark, damp tentacles
And ghastly gnarled and knotted womb –
Beyond your thorn-infested veins
And feather-dancing fingertips,
Explodes a world of crimson glory
In your wildly blushing face.

I’m blinded by the velvet smiles,
The honeyed breeze – the hushed embrace.

5/18/1988

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