I long for green,
my eyes cry out
to breathe in lush,
to end this drought
of colour in a land leached white –
my heart will pray for green tonight.
Your foliage is dipped in wine-red blood.
The thought comes unbidden –
Did you impale yourself on your thorns?
Shoulders back, you deny your wound and
Brandish rapiers high.
I admire from a distance;
repulsed and drawn by your beauty,
galled and fascinated,
desire provokes me and I
fall on your leaves,
trophies to add