The Hand That Gives The Rose

Allie Nelson

Dances with Tricksters

Courage carry your voice tonight
across the wintry waters of souls,
in a snowbank, a rose is frozen,
hips filled with seeds, dry as dust
iced to stinging clarity, I pierce
my finger on a blackened thorn,
rubies of my heart well up, my
life becomes a red red blossom
of lush petals like a woman’s sex,
fragrant in this frost, I give you
my bloom, the hand that gives the
rose. You keep it under glass, and
when I am sad, it withers, when I
am in love with you, it ripens and
someday, I too will bear pink hips
swollen with future, sleeping seeds.

View original post

2 thoughts on “The Hand That Gives The Rose

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s