Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Twists of Roses (poem). This poem was written when contemplating the similarities between roses, rose stems, rose thorns, and barbed wire.

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We pulled ourselves away

from the shrill tangle of lies and guns –


a small bench, a twist of roses –

the smell of sweet, green grass


and a fire burned down

into the rocks and sand


Your eyes, hot and wet,

singular coins, unblinking,

end-over-end

sinking into the depths of my waters


cool and clear like a first encounter

untinged by disappointment


ropes still coiled and fresh

smelling of jasmine and rain


under twists of roses

we pull ourselves further

away

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