the blinding light on the

country club’s roof shined on

my face causing me to

squint my eyes while the music

snagged the gardenia’s petals away.

pollinated petals      blowing pricelessly away

across the dancefloor —

and pouncing onto the pillars.

glorified romances that would one day rot

as if a tsunami crashed through,

suffocating     the oblivious peonies fixed on the naive couple on the dancefloor.

prying precious pearls from ash

trying to conserve      what Cupid had once created,

trying to save —

what is already far gone

inevitable breakup sprouting             like vines across the lighted roof top,

angel-like snapdragon kisses       that spread onto her lips.

standing 

alone —

 on the emtpy dancefloor with the ghost of

him stealing lustful lollygagging looks, locking them

into a safe. the sly smile that

would                   grasp on her face through the country club like

firecrackers, sugarbushes swirling through the room.

would she have left then?

if she had known how roughly he

would                                 penetrate her stems, snatch her petals 

of their color, would she have left the

foolish ornithogalums to fend for themselves?

no, she wouldn’t think she would have.

she would have unraveled in her 

concaved

collapsed castle 

reigning with thorned crowns like a turtle with plastic around its neck,

she would let a thousand lakes of lavenders lace to

go back and feel the stare of his once ignited eyes.