Betrayal

Betrayal


The red roses over there, yes those in the blue
ceramic vase on the mahogany table, are eying
me hungrily, they could so easily grow roots in
my belly and produce black and green roses.

Till I had no more nourishment left and was
a skeletal being drained of useful mineral, and
petals would fall off seed blow in the wind to
other hosts… and the last indignity is done.