Roses Remedied

The parcel lies lifeless
Set aside on the counter
The danger nearly passed
She could hear the ticking clock
Pounding out a tattoo
Over the still-shaken heartbeat
That whispers within her chest
The anatomy of feeling-
Grafted by romanticism
Onto the unwilling body-
In it’s supposed existence
Almost fell prey to the perilous package,
Now almost forgotten.
It almost was conquered
By the siege of pushes and pulls
On heartstrings
Photos became reinforcements
Lining the walls to repel feeling,
To prevent any twitch of love
From becoming the spark of resurrection.
She loses herself in the pictures
Of yesterday,
Oh so many years ago,
And remembers him…
And refuses to let go,
Because this baby’s in black
And that’s nothing new
Neither is the pain she holds to
Like a life preserver,
A last line to lost love
And love, now cold and bitter,
Like yesterday’s coffee
Is the cure for the hangover
That may have been caused
By the box full of flowers
And memories dashed to bits
Of nothing.
She’s found a cure for happiness...
And for roses.