A Single White Rose
I fold my fingers round the silent spine,
feeling the tender threat of invisible teeth.
A subtle needle nips beneath the skin,
drawing a solitary, shining seam of crimson.
That dark droplet slowly drags its weight,
a ruby tear trembling on immaculate ivory.
It bleeds into the delicate, velvet veins,
staining the pale bloom with a quiet, scarlet ache.
Held high against the gathering shade,
surrendering its soft, porcelain secrecy -
a single white rose,
forever marked by the hands that cherished it.
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