Outside the Mall After the Rain

They are roses. Just roses,
perfect pink like young love. But
in this moment they are everything:
irises. Daisies. Orchids. Even
cherry blossoms are eclipsed
in the tenderness of this vision.
I want to swallow them, to wash my face
with the glittering petals, to stare until
they are as much me as my name
or my dislike of roses.

1 comment:

Katie said...

I love it! That last line is a great kicker.

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