an Unimpressed Rose Poem
I can see fog trickles out of his lips, carrying a tale longer than 1000 Arabian nights. Just another knight on a shiny horse casting a net of illusion that leaves me deadpan in my blossom shaded lips. I take my time to leave knowing he is still wrapped in his own flattery. I put my hand where my heart is, relieved that I have yet to be bought by rehearsed gallantry and words. To him I am just another rose to be conquered yet my petals and thorns have always been my own teacher in life and so it continues.