Nothing more serrated than the stretch of a bloom to open.
Nothing is craggier than the distance of two hearts.
Nothing more setaceous than a rose
climbing the bleeding ladder of its longings.
Nothing is more galling than
silence when the music is due.
Nothing is more savage than slaughtering a flower
before its scent’s bloom.
Nothing
is more serrated than the death of your beloved.
Nothing is more uneven than a paved road
that bludgeon you to part.
