Another Perennial Fixation

by on July 24, 2023 :: 0 comments

I would compare you to an Adonis rose, except
my therapist says I shouldn’t make comparisons,
and I want her to put a rose on your nose, God
knows, but you’re a dim wilted I, dry withered I,
weathered down into clinched fist of a rosy view.
Need I be retold that that rose was just another?
Some one has to be paid, and anyways, since this
desire of a romanticized size for a banal design of
Nature tears me up, naturally, I counter restraint,
holding its own double-edged point. I warn Self
not to make an annual event out of your flaws. I
best not associate you with any thing, never mind
me, in a reflection on flattering a fold within many
to please, again, who? Why? It all smells of bloom.

editors note:

By any other name, give rise. (We welcome Nikita to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

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