Love Always

A shriveled rose
Once red, now lavender
The leaves once bending,
Now brittle and crinkled
The thorns filed down,
Insipid like molars.
The petals once smooth,
Like silk,
Are now rough,
Like tissue paper matted in a ball.
The scent grows stronger,
A hidden secret.
A ribbon tied to the stem,
Signed, “Love Always”
From a friend.
A song on the radio
Sounds like a rainy day.
The last quarter moon on Tuesday,
The new moon comes next Wednesday.
Somehow I’m stuck between,
Like the hidden secret of the rose,
It’s still alive,
Underneath the crispy outer petals,
Below the filed thorns,
Connected to a card,
Reading:
“Love Always,”
From a friend.