Senseless Touch Series: Firework Roses.

Roses aren't meant for december.

She smelt like roses,
Lingering on his skin.

Growing
Like the more magnificent
Fireworks get
Crack by crack,
On the Fourth of July

She was
The Fourth of July
In the midst of April
When the weather wasn't too hot,
Nor sunny.
When the roses he gave her
Were only partial credit,
Of his love
Love that grows,
As they're farther apart

His body was a garden
Her touch was the sun
His tears were rain
Feeding her scent
Expanding his fields,
Of roses.
And only roses.

Dying on his skin
The scent fading
Like the way firecrackers
End its beautiful dance
Flicker by Flicker,
In the draft night sky

She was the Fourth of July,
In the midst of April.
And he was a child of
Ice cold December.

Her roses,
Frozen,
Started to silently die,
Decomposing
Into sparks
And memories.

He began to cry, “July”
He did not get to save the roses,
As it spread faster than fireworks.
But even fireworks,
Die.

And that is when he
Realized,
He began to smell like roses
Wilting on his skin.

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

its projection is quite different --- in the lines...
I see you used the months as the theme of this work...
its a verse you have to take in and read between the lines of its meaning...
and the irony of it all --- takes a turn in the ending...
also liked how you used the 4th of July in there and fireworks and roses...
as a comparable notion of dying...

[Lola]

Thank you for this wonderful review! I'm glad my message got across and you were able to notice the irony and symbolism and twist if it all. xo

[Glen Yumang Manese]

you're welcome...I liked that you took the creative route...instead of the norm...not that it's bad to do that...but this represents thinking outside the box...and gives the verse your identity...

[Lola]

thank you so much!