The Rose Garden
They say there is a rose garden that blooms inside us now and again.
I remember how your breath was so sweet I wanted to swallow it
Whole – gobbling up your gasping wind – to drown my screaming
Passion, ignited by your soft molasses coated tongue, with the scent of rose
Blossoming inside me, where my blood rushed your love home – yes!
Later I thought how strange it was, that it could last for so long, with me,
Still breathing after you had left – for three days – I was exhaling your fumes!
But, that memory was not distressing, no! Mildly hallucinogenic; it was swirling
There in my blood, like the alcohol that washes away your scent – sometimes –
Life is like searching a beer garden for a bottle of aphrodisiac potion you’ve lost.
What’s more troubling is that all the other flowers continue to bloom.
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