Reshma Ramesh - Black rose

Blooming night suckles the moon,
Small hours seeking to be lenitive,
Born from truth to numb thorns,
Exaggerated is her beauty,
For to nothing you can compare her,

Black rose
she makes me weak at the knees
Black rose,
she smells like my last day
black rose
she tastes like my anguish

Daughter of the dark, she wrote her name,
with sable heart, ruptured agony,
shimmers bright her proud lips,
exaggerated is her glory,
for mercy could be her middle name.

black rose
she makes me cry out her name
black rose
she feels like my first orgasm
black rose
she will never be in love with me

Reshma Ramesh

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/black-rose-24/