Fulcrum of a Rose

Fulcrum of a Rose A lambent sight, my morning star, sweet essence on my tongue. A mem'ry stirred—those bygone days, a secret love so young. That lambent sight, my nostrils seared, trust wrought of hope and fear. She loves me so, she loves me not— I beg I pray, my dear. I wonder whence this essence comes— I close my eyes, breathe deep. From time and space. A higher realm. A tunnel one-way steep. One velvet scale, droplets of dawn falls—spirit rent in two, Another pluck, my fingers twitch— mere instants born anew. I fear to count how many drop— worse, how many remain. That smell so sweet, now on the floor, unraveled till insane. Red petals, damn filthy petals! Your right to choose, I do revoke! I swear it on her name.