You're favorite color was red,
like love
and blood.

I think about this as I gaze at the roses outside my window
they are so beautyful, yet so strong.

There are seventeen roses on the rosebuish. 
That was your licky number, 
you told me. 

Well, I felt so lucky with you. 
But now I see that I must have walked under a scarlet ladder
because I have lost you

or maybe a black cat crossed my path
or seventeen red cats. 

I don't know what happened. All I know
is that I miss you, 
and you're two red lips.