poetry

Love…

The course of this love,

Is all creases and curves,

Where the folds hide coyly,

The secrets of the bud,

And

The blooming pain,

Of its magical transformation,

To a charming pink rose.

And

Reveal with aplomb,

It’s silky countenance.

Yet concealing it’s scars,

And an unsaid pain,

Of a short existence,

Diffused in it’s ecstatic fragrance,

Making lovers wonder,

What stays in love?

And

What fades away?

love: pain: rose

2 thoughts on “Love…”

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