Roses

Copulation is blood and
Barbed wire, and you
Love it.
Sick.
You sniff it
Hungrily. You want
To eat it, and feel
The hooks tear your
Intestines on the
Way down.

Your body will bloom.
Your nails will be thorns
Clutching your throat.
You will become
A rose.
Sick.
I will not smell,
Or even look, lest my
Mind is fooled
By your
Beauty.