I Smelled Trouble of a Fancy Rose
Petite sweet deception-free promises
Blurred the air
Trusting hope
Deep deliberate ingestion of my own fantasy
The air was cool and refreshing
But exhaling nothing but warm beer and salsa
I accepted the dare to believe
That the next glimpse would deepen the hope
That I had become more worthy of the beauty
That my eyes provided
That she was both the rose and the fragrance
But exhaling nothing but warm beer and salsa
I was returned to where I started from
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