ROSE POISON

Your face is a rose
Its beauty grows with
Each passing day
I am
touched by your skin
so soft as
//petalsundermoonlight//
yet
when I claim you as my own
hold you by the hand
caress your life-
it stings.

My hand draws back,
and I see
red.
I taste
blood.

Your face is a rose.
Your beauty is poison.

And it is wonderful.

-Silverdream139