She promised me roses

She promised me roses

I saw her

standing at the bar

legs like beautifully shaped stems

I looked up

and she blossomed

I approached her

got a bit closer

and felt her thorns

Later she would tell me

“You just have to know where to touch”

She promised me roses

red and black ones

reds were loving

black for coupling

picked in gardens

put in vases

on the mantel piece

of our future apartment

She promised me roses

her lips

were the petals

she lay amongst nettles

On her tongue were the thorns

and I had to avoid them

She promised me roses

they would last forever

they would give me a fever

whenever I got near her

I learnt that roses can wither

before you even pick them

She promised me roses

but the worst thing she told me was,

apparently,

blazon rose poetry

can’t be about flowers

2 thoughts on “She promised me roses

  1. You’re walking across a field.
    You notice a beautiful flower.
    You pic it, because it’s beautiful.
    Bring it home and put it in water.

    It will die in a couple of days.

    If you leave it growing
    other searcers will find it as well
    and share the wonderful feeling of finding

    Soul connection

    Less egotism.

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