You gave me a rose,
it frightened me.
Did you look at it before you gave it to me?
It had too many folds,
terrifying origami.
The flower was folding in on itself,
a mysterious sinkhole
like the one I saw on the news,
it swallowed up a building.
The folds of your rose were valves opening and closing, making thudding sounds because they flapped when your blood rushed through them, lub dub, lub dub, lub dub.
I saw veins in the leaves
and all my blood rushed up to my head,
I saw a parking lot spinning across the ceiling All the cars in it were red and pulsing.
I was sinking, pulsing and
I thanked you,
I put your rose in a bud vase
and waited patiently for it to die.
Jess
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