Wordle #236

I trace the roses wrapped

around your throat,

signs and thorns tumbling

from your blood-ripened lips.

How could I live without your flair?

Your beautiful right brain spasms

between euphoria and melancholy,

I would follow you anywhere.

–

We line our drinks up by the bridge,

it would be so easy to fall

but I can think of no meaning

in death that life does not better serve.

You hold me so tight

there’s never breath enough to spare.

My impulses frighten you,

my pale, ambivalent face rising over

you each morning like a nascent spell.

–

I always go into panic mode the day after something important. I am just scared and full of doubt hence struggling to write and the iffy poem.

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