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.