Undress
Poem
Oh boy…
We have come to this
Weather a rose down to its thorns
You see something hidden in the lush
Notes of the petal’s scent
Sharp pain a secondhand prize
Awarded to grabbing love
By the throat
Tiny serrations
Belong, somehow
Never complain
You make the bloom
Cheaper that way
more by LORD BISON
CHECK OUT: That Golden Woman – A Spoken Word Album by Lord Bison
photograph by Jeri Johnson