I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt;
With your thick, sharp, beautiful, jagged words,
True meaning hidden within the roots,
Masked by dirt.
Your lies are given to me,
In bundles of roses
Growing from the nutrient dense soil.
Flourishing into a fake splendor.
The pedals engaging to the naked eye
A gesture sweet as the rose smells.
Leaves hiding the vicious thorns
Drawing blood when least expected.
Enticing as spring draws out
The blooming of each flower,
Pedals slowly open to the world
Like when my secrets unfolded to you.
Sights so majestic, none notice
We were all sharing the same flower.
Your scheme unknown
Mystery yet to be solved.
Four hands cannot grasp
A single ruby red rose
Your lies will be discovered,
For each rose needs
The universal sun to flourish.
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