the roses love a theremin;
it excites their anthocyanin.
they flush/multiply, and their
aromatic nuclei burst open.when i speak to them,
their roseate petals unfurl,
and their rouge lips curl
to breath in my carbon.they've an unearthly element—
a sensuous geometry
starting at their hips
and traipsing up their stamens.to quantize a rose
is to pluck out its petals
(beautiful and discrete)
one by one.
"returned, unrequited, returned, unrequited...returned."