I Picked You

He who would have nothing to do with thorns must never attempt to gather flowers. - Thoreau

i part your lips like delicate, silken, rose petals

breathing the wealth and essence of an exquisite hue

admiring your rich, crimson  beauty

oblivious to thorns drawing blood from my innocuous flesh

with pieces of you stuck between my teeth

i wear you

i inhale you

i know you

i knew you

i fear you

i want you

i need you

i bleed you

i love you

i picked you

Author's Note

"Truths and roses have thorns about them." - Thoreau