the rose that
drops eternity off
the edge
of each petal--
dripping, eternity comes, sliding thick
from the mouth of the rose and all down its stem.
i push the rose into my mouth
to taste eternity, crystalline like sugar, salt--
it's something to savor,
the absence of
decay, the absence of
the moment,
subsumed
in a lush satin swirl of petals.
my mind, too, can be dirty for you;
watch me contort:
i can douse the rose
deepen its color with moisture,
make its new scent
that of a profound and secret blush.
see how i can make myself
your own, see how i set my lips
into the cavern of your doubled hands--see
how i set up an echo
like the stain the rose traces
on a piece of cloth:
see how i repeat.