Beloved Monster

his hedge clippers

were rusted clay

chipped pterodactyl


they cut through

my blackberry vines

my rose bushes

he left them

to dry in the sun

like rotten sweetcorn

I found a rose on the dried vine

the size of a beer cap

and wrapped in lime

you became the head

of a woman made of

foxglove and olive


under my

yellow raincoat with

four sleeves we played

a game of hide and seek

after the sun was gone

you began to rot

I had to throw you away

you'd attract flies

in the morning

your petals fell into my bed

like the burnt newspaper

in my parent's fireplace

I didn't bury your ash

It was lost to the wind