Rose

The closest flower I cannot feel

A lone beauty lost in the field

Purity, desire, native temptation

My age, distance, present desolation

The rising flame among ice walls

Turn great icebergs into waterfalls

Her inner heat disturbs the weak

But makes myself feel wide-awake

Her wildness would be my prize

If I dared to tear my old disguise

A flower grows with cultivation

Love without it, not a sensation.

@chrisbarretto10