a sybaritic desire
to thrill you with my words
to lay them at your feet
bougainvillea petals
falling free from the stem
with spurious inflorescence
gather them and know they are for you
..
i’ll hide the thorns of course
bury them deep in palm flesh
to seraphic sting, no remorse
with blood droplets
exquisitely smeared across lips
adding
crimson
subtracting
all the reasons why
we cannot be