She Would Bloom

Rose, beautiful yet brutalized
Her tender folds that would normally shy
All light and dark, for she’s wary and afraid
Of horned beasts seeking hot honey


They force their touch, stick their tongue
Over and over in repetitive failure
Her nectar won’t seep and her buds won’t open
For she craves more than blasted heat and strokes


She yearns warmth, not heat, caresses, not beats
The stride of the sensuous wind, ride of a solid seat
Shower her from brim to stalk, let her press her thorns
And let her dig you as much as you’d want to her


In turn, she herself would carouse and arouse
The path of the ants, the valley of the gods
And she’d offer her sacred miracle
She’ll open her petals only to you