The roses bloomed and died while I was gone,
Dozens, a wall of glorious crimson, grabbing light;
Bursting, then all at once browning, fading, but having lived.
Petals drifting to the cold soil, crushed, dry bones of rebirth.
The pieces we leave behind embedded.
Lips formed to kiss, a surprise,
Your taste lingers, like time.
Eyes narrow and dark become brown and soft, startled, questioning.
The darkness peels away, silence become sound; a sigh.
Light cracks the gloom; your face.
Roses bloom and die and feed their resurrection.
Skin accepts the dew, becomes alive.
Bodies astride accept love.
Darkness opens to light
There is always light.