Summer St.

“It’s been unfolding for so long, it’s inside-out.”

“What…life? This story?”

“Probly, but I meant that flower. The rose. Don’t touch it, they really do have thorns. Pointy ones.”

“It’s all brown and dead.”

“Not if you look closely. The petals are on-fire pink in the center and the stem is battleship.”

“Battleships and thorns and pointy.”

“And unfolding.”

Posted in: words, writing on June 23, 2015