| Soubrette my heart blossoms and the petals are fragrant like the wrists of a mistress, stained and ordained with a perfume prepared to meet the expectations of a lover. my heart blossoms and the colours explode in the spectrum of ancient light caught at the far end of the universe, perceived new but from the beginning, what always was. my heart blossoms and all the thorns melt and run into nothingness, for pain is not regent in a world where there are the petals and fragrance of your lips, ripe with emotion and hope. copyright William F. DeVault (wfdv). |
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