Thorn Rose Prickle

A thorn rose prickle
brings a blood-red trickle-
bitter, iron rust.

Disgust in an expression
after a thorn rose confession:
of crimson, of ruby, of scarlet.

Dainty puddles descending
an aching throat,
smudged by the fingers
of one so fickle-
the one addicted
to a thorn rose prickle.

He and she found themselves quite lone;
desire to love torched to the bone,
ashes blown to a far-out zone.

One must know
that it is foolish to go
collecting romance
where the thorn rose grows.
For a thorn rose prickle
by a love most fickle
brings a blood trickle,
turns bitter, iron lust
to bitter, iron dust.

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