Heart of the Rose

My lungs crave
an uncommon air,
fruit of sun,
rain and dirt,

the sweet scent
of the flame
at the heart of
the rose.

One fell at her feet,

the sun lit
the stage
in gold,

my own heart
in the air
with her leaps,

toe pointed true
she spun through
the floor,
burning

until the rose opened

teaching me
the strength
in her delicate grace,

arms wide

the silk dress of
petals unfurled
to reveal

a heart of flame

the sun contained
in the delicate
body

born
of rain
and dirt
and fire.