At first it was bare and ripe for the picking -
my chest was pulsating under your weight you
stripped my heart like an exotic dancer would:
all eyes and no hands.

After the initial grasp, the puff puff pass and the
smiles exchanged between our legsarmslimbs and the
time it took to be rid of the excess skin crowding us in,
we breathed in sweet, sweet fumes of spring and said
things kept in our mouths, light like ecstasy but
heavier than the average promise.

But the hours it took to argue the hunger away made our
heads ache and eventually our jaws could clench no longer,
our eyes could see no more of each other - just smoke and
******* clouding our way - it was lost,
whatever it was, it

was lost.

Red and long stemmed,
beautiful, true.
They were sent to her office
with no card and no clue.
A secret Admirer, or an
FTD stalker?
The long stems were lovely-
but none was a talker.

She made a few calls to find out
who had sent them.
It seemed obvious there must
be a romantic intention.
I was surprised by her call,
but not at all sad.
We’d broken up last spring
but nothing too bad..
I said I hadn’t sent them,
but I wished that I had.

Those words led to coffee
and coffee to drinks..
Those words led to vows
and connubial links.
Our life and our home and
two kids in the yard;
all the result of that unsigned gift card.
Swept up in the currents
of time, past recall-
Our lives would be poorer
with no roses at all.