Diamond

Funny you should ask.
While you’ve been idly knitting,
I went into the garden
and gathered up roses for the queen.

The cobblestone path directing me
was slick and slimy and green
from disuse of late
and smelled of mid-evening rain.

I was lead by
the draft which swept me
into its limbs
and carried me to the bushes.

There, I shot my arm
into the abyss of green and yellow
to detach a blossom
as close to the base as possible.

She squealed while
clamped between my thumb
and forefinger
and I could have died right there.

I crossed my digits
behind my back, hoping to avoid
retaliation for cutting
a thing of beauty down in its prime.

It’s funny, but
I didn’t bleed when the thorns
broke my skin.
Rather, I came from the pain.

I took the flora to
Miss Monarch in hopes that they
could somehow ease
the sheet of pain covering her eyes.

When I entered her
chamber, she was sprawled out upon
her bed, moaning
quietly as she massaged her temples.



When she saw my face
and the package I was cradling
her moist lips
curled into a feline sort of grin.

I winced and went
over to her side, placing the blooms  
of a urine tint
at her exposed, smooth thigh.

She wrapped
her hand around my wrist
and pulled me
down to her cushion of silk.

Shifting positions,
her aching head sought solace
in my crotch,
which cringed with discomfort.

She reached down,
following her contoured torso,
and slipped
her hand slyly under her gown.

As her open
palm re-emerged from the dark
recesses of woman,
where I dare not ever dwell,

I saw the gift
she bore for me and it was a diamond swollen so that
it could have easily engulfed my boot.

I smiled 
ever so politely and told her
that the wind
had changed and it was time for me to go.

Running straight 
to you, I seek refuge in your arms, 
whose triceps
curve like knowing smiles.

Each breath
I take lies as near to the next,
my love,
as I now lie near to you.

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