I’ll go ahead and bite because I’ve been strapped by the fallacy of a poison.
Rushing through my veins.
Not moving because of a station parked at the edge of the concrete ice.
Exploring a new adventure and bringing comfort to the muscle of contraction.
Within the garden of right and wrong is the appeal of the rose and its thorns.
The thorns made an agreement with my flesh and the result was the blood.
Just then, the blood raced down my finger.
I began to contemplate why I held it with excitement.
Still, my caress was that of sheer amazement, for beauty is with threatening expense.
As enticing and engaging as it became, my grasp became honored with delight!
The stimulation left me once again, rigid.
I couldn’t help but move into ecstasy.
Posted in: Poems, Prose, and Songs