Between my finger, between my thumb,

rests a deep veridian stem.

A few inches up, bursts into a rose,

your radiant diadem.

My fingers have found,

a haven between two thorns.

The angel’s pilot,

among the devil’s horns.

My thumb bares the burden,

by which the rose forms.

Curled-edged lapels,

of paper-thin swarms.

My index freighted affectionate,

upon the goblin staff.

Beheld a crimson ruby,

of pain, of love unmasked.

The petals play twistly,

illutional vastness.

This hurricane, it bleeds,

beauty within madness.

My prize, I win,

my piece, I treasure.

Oh rose of velvet proportion,

oh stem of love’s measure.