so I thought, could I bring a fresh new twist
to this metaphor of love and thorns?
Could I bring attention to the roots, the leaves,
the multitude of colors?
Or have those
also been overused to death?
~~
Hey, here’s a brainstorm idea:
in ancient Asia and Europe,
they bred roses to have more petals
by adapting the stamens into petals.
Roses used to only have five,
but now they hold countless,
too many to keep track of
before they crumble,
so I guess
when you pick one
to play, “They love me,
they love me not,”
you might not
discover the answer
before it falls apart
like our ancestors intended.
***
header photo by Amel Uzunovic on Pexels.com
(Do I actually know what this poem is talking about? Uh…not really, it was just a fun thought experiment.)
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Jordyn Saelor 