3 views
Two, of the same.
Two rose
From the same garden,
Painted Red.
We love each other,
Thorny,
Prickley kisses
And lots of boo-hoos from blood.
Where do I stand,
Without getting
Glazed gaping wounds?
How can I hold you?
Between numb sliced fingers?
If I love you enough
I can only appreciate,
Not swiftly pluck you
From the roots,
Spun Three-Kilometres in total.
Dunking you,
Displayed.
Kitchen table
Wither into potpurri, once agian
You are in the air.
From the same garden,
Painted Red.
We love each other,
Thorny,
Prickley kisses
And lots of boo-hoos from blood.
Where do I stand,
Without getting
Glazed gaping wounds?
How can I hold you?
Between numb sliced fingers?
If I love you enough
I can only appreciate,
Not swiftly pluck you
From the roots,
Spun Three-Kilometres in total.
Dunking you,
Displayed.
Kitchen table
Wither into potpurri, once agian
You are in the air.
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