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,


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


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