Roses

Roses

Rose thorns bite

with malice aforethought.

When a lover attempts

to pluck a bud

from an overgrown vine.

Blood rushes from the wound

as if escaping jealousy

while the lover clumsily

drops the bud

and covers his bulging vein.

The thorns carry the blood drop

as gently as a tear

precariously balanced

even the slightest breeze

can cause loss.