Saturday, April 21, 2012


The offering’s out of control,
overflowing with color and perfume,
the roses keep on giving, as if they
don’t know that love has died.
Everywhere I walk is decorated,
a rich wedding aisle.  But there is nobody
waiting for me, stupid grin,
at the end of this walk. Just more
roses. I lean into them and inhale. 

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