Invisible pink roses turning the wind
Tuneful sound, beautiful rush, tasteful lust
Yearning their teasing aroma
Tossing themselves--against their
Perfect soft pedals
Picked and pricked from their thorns
Once new; Twice new now;
Never seen;
Relentlessly pervious green
Dangling into the glistening wind
Like the leaves that kisses the sun
Oblique and unreal like that of fiction
Arrive yearning love and affection--to be
Alive in a way but burns half dead
