Would you wilt, my Orchid?
Wilt by the waters of ignorance,
by the heat of disparage?

Would you wilt, my Orchid?
Wilt by your stubborn defiance,
by your planted loathing?

Wilt you may, my Orchid,
but in my hands.
Wilt in palms that scurry
to save you.

Wilt you may, my Orchid,
but leave your roots.
Wilt with trace of hope
to save me.

Would you wilt, my Orchid,
by a common rose’s grace?
Would you wilt, my Orchid,
when my heaven is your face?

"... I don't want you to leave"

Normally, I wake up mid-sleep.
I didn't this time.
I did actually, but just that once,
just the once to get to her.

And we're in the backseat.
and she's most precious.
Just a taste, just a taste.

"... Do not hurt her"

I know, I know; I won't.
She will, once I wake up.
Hold my hand, just a taste.

And in a maze of buildings,
And in a maze of rooms.
All white, pink, & pastel.

She's pink & pastel. Most Precious.

Coiled like cats beneath her blankets inside a freezing room.

"Hey"
with a smile. Most precious.
"...hey."

And she was gone.

"... I don't want you to leave"

You strummed my chords
and played the song of lust
my body complied
controlled my being
moans and such
you held me yesterday
stretched me
cupped my neck
rested your fingers
on my lips
you strummed
and slid the rest
up and down my frets
I feared no more
my body jolted
with the thunder outside
as he strummed my delicate lips
down there
tears wet his fingers
it wasn't the song of lust
no more
it was different
he was clueless
that tonight
he was playing
the blues
instead

Oh Darling,
Get ready,
I think
I found
my
self