The Prick
Her fingertips caress the end of the stem.
Petals echo their scent with every breath.
She walks at a slow pace, staring at the windows.
Her reflection smiles beside the open bloom.
Clouds surround her feet as she thinks of the days,
When the world is better because he’s near.
Each glance at another shows only his face.
Only his smile. Only his eyes. Only him.
She moves a little swifter. Her meeting is soon.
She sees the future kiss, standing from afar.
Her lips brush his. Her eyes touch his.
Their souls intertwine in the mist between them.
She glances in a window to view the gift.
That single flower glows brightly,
After having been touched by him.
She envies the rose, but she knows not long.
Beyond the shadow of the rose in the window,
She sees him.
Wrong place.
Another woman.
A passionate kiss.
She squeezes.
The prick.
It hurts.

Surprise ending..
Patsy
@Patsy: Good or bad? And did you enjoy the double meaning? ;)
I liked the poem and I did catch the double meaning.. ;~)
Patsy
@Patsy: I knew you’d catch the meaning. You’re a smart woman. ;)
Love the imagery here.
.-= Joanne Olivieri´s blog – Wordless Wednesday – Garden Paths =-.
@Joanne Olivieri: I take that as a huge compliment considering some of the stuff I’ve read on your site. Thank you very much.