naked of the cloaks of the desired,
even a deeply nestled petal wilts
of rhythmic imitation of the sun.
what effortlessly nourishes an animal but sleep?

effort to sustain a roadside presence greater than the gain,
did you grow thorns? or were they written in your skin?
(inscription: learn to give up, learn to coexist;
shut out words will always miss)

a man that isn't male, a woman free of feminine
left guessing at another ill-communicated notion

to open without expectations, thin of want
to miser, hidden coffers nourishing no passersby

when roots obscure the sun a rose may strategize
but some hands open only in the darkness,
pale and bright or yawning at a winter cloak
as if to ask: comes there a longer night?