Rose of Death
Kissed by the rose of death.
It's sweet black petals
taste of wine.
I suckle on her
luscious petals,
consuming her
delightful, fragrant aroma
Descending,
Capitulating
to the dark beauty of
her malevolent spell.
Distracted.
Engrossed by
her ebony lips.
Disregarding
the noxious prick
of her prodding thorns
Gently piercing,
consuming,
assimilating
my existence.
Copyright © David Irby | Year Posted 2015
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