Flor de la Canela (The Cinnamon Flower)
All the Roses | In the Dark | Night Tremens
All the Roses
© Carl Hathwell
She laughed,
When courted,
Her laugh,
A new lilt to her timbre.
The soul has a scent
Like water has flavor.
A corpus,
Betrayal,
First the blow,
Tears come later.
Options...loss.
A primeval genus, mother to all the roses.