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Fulcrum of a Rose
Fulcrum of a Rose
A lambent sight, my morning star,
sweet essence on my tongue.
A memory stirred—those bygone days,
a secret love so young.
That lambent sight, my nostrils seared,
symbol wrought of hope and fear.
She loves me, 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—my spirit rent in two,
Another pluck, my fingers
twitch—one instant born anew.
I fear to count how many drop—
worse, how many remain.
That smell so sweet, now on the floor,
me, unraveled till insane.
Red pedals, damn filthy pedals!
Your right to choose, I do revoke!
I swear it on her name.
Copyright ©
Nico Coar
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