Roses of Yesterday


Love,
fool's paradise,
like a rose from yesterday's suitor.

Its petals,
once glinted silk,
now crumble with brassy rust.

Ferocious thorn,
enchanting with divinity,
pierce barren knives into the skin.

Scented,
with thick, velvet must,
yet hardly tangible to an aroma.

Love,
roses of yesterday.

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