SILKEN

A single rose emerges.
Plants its indelible mark
On the corner of my eye.
I want to cut you off.
Place you on the surface
of my Dream caress your stem
And smell the fragrance
That secrets.

I have you here on the bed extracting
Leaves marked like freckles
On your back. There upon
The fresh clean space
Is your little hill, blushing.

Your quintessential silk
On my lips, droplets
Of summer rain fall from
The petals onto the bed-
Clothes. I place you in a glass
On my windowsill.

The young thorn pricks my finger inserts
Beneath the skin reminding me
How to hold you honestly, tenderly.
I know your vibrant colour wont last
But beside it on the stem is another
Bud to bloom