The Rose of Jericho

I must be sick, the way I crumble in the face of you. I've fallen and I'll never get up.

The cracks in the sand just get larger

The desert stretches on and on and it just doesn't seem to end

The ground beneath my feet gets harder

I would say life does, too, but that's not true

Every single time you come in like a ship on the harbor

I want to make you stay but I wouldn't take any means to that end

No one else ever looks me in the eye, stranger

I'd be remiss if I thought I could ever lie to you

So here it is:

I'm alone and thriving,

And the blood is only ever drying

Then, like a bi-annual ritual of the cruelest degree

You remind me of you

And I bloom

As abruptly as a spring shower

Like waves crashing on a boulder

My heart swells almost violently

Drips dropping

Exploding reds in my mind

Petals unfurling

I'd rather not keep them inside

You with your good graces, your ghosting fingers touch me

So tenderly it's almost unbearable

My birthday is in April

And I'm not meant to be treated gently

You blow in the wind, 

You touch me in the mist

My birthday is in April

So darling, tell me: 

When can my flowers hope to be encased in your showers?

Reviews

[Arundass TP]

Nice writing. Enjoyed reading.

[Shane Blackheart]

This has such rich and beautiful imagery, and the longing for this person is clear. It really tugged at my emotions in a way a lot of poetry online doesn't. This is a great piece.

[justanimpression]

Thank you.