Rose

The thorns were sharp
So pointed and fierce
And the rose, dewy, tender

Blush hush beautiful.

The dew gently tipped off her lashes
Storm in her eyes, angst in her heart

Why? Speak! Please.
You’ll feel better for sharing.

I can’t. I really can’t.

Now you make no sense
Of course you can. Just say it!

A crackle of lightning
The thunder of her response.

I can’t! Why can you not understand!
I don’t know. I don’t know.
It’s one of those things…

Okay. Okay!
He did not ask. He did not move.
Picked up a magazine
Instead of her.

He gave her space.
He let her be.
Prickly. Beautiful. Untouchable.

When all she wanted, needed

Was just to be held and told
Okay! Hush! Its’ Okay!

Sometimes, she wished
He’d move right into her space.

10 February, 2016

Day#10 of #RamblingsInFebruary