Stone Roses

This poem was inspired by a desert rose stone that I picked up at a market. If you've never seen one, here's a picture:













In my hand I hold a desert rose,
chalk edges on petals of stone.

I am the moon,
dusted into your eyes.
The sound of your name,

soft as sands
flowing to the call
of the wind in the desert,

eats away the stone
bloomed in my palm.

In the hot breath of rose
we fade -