Rose
I rolled over my finger
On the head of a rose
It was smooth and bulky
Like a face way back to my road
With each touch of the finger
On the petals of the rose
I loosed myself in the skin of a rose
Which I never touched
Like this beautiful rose
It drifted back
To save her self
She said to me don’t touch me again
I moved my hands back
To feel her safe
Then I said to myself why?
Then my anxiety made me to do it again
With several tickles on the petals
I experienced the extreme smoothness again
I rolled my finger all over the rose
But my finger didn't stopped until
A petal, broken down on the floor……
Hari Das
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